MessMaker
by MidoriEyes
Summary: Nick and Ellis get separated from their team when a bridge leading to freedom is blown up by the military. While struggling to regroup, they become closer in ways they never had when fighting zombies together. There's just one little problem. Nick/Ellis
1. Part 1

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Please__enjoy__my__first__L4D2__fanfic!_: )

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_**Part 1**_

_*CRACK*_

Even after the hundred-millionth time, he still couldn't get used to it.

_*THWACK*_

Sure, it was the most effective way to get the job done, but if only it didn't have to be so…

_*SPLURT*_

"Goddammit!"

Gross… for lack of a better word.

The sound of skulls caving in under deliberate force.

An onslaught of guts 'n' gore erupting from those fatal blows.

The wet gurgling noise that followed after.

It would make him puke any other day if he wasn't trying to avoid a similar, more gruesome, fate. Not to mention, the infected seemed to have the whole puke thing down to a T. Why add to the glut?

Nick loosened his grip on the baseball bat and let the cup of it tap the ground once he had finished off the last of the horde's stragglers. He wiped his forehead with the back of his free hand, careful not to let any sweat get on his jacket sleeve. There was no point in doing so, since the entire suit was practically caked with dirt, blood and other unmentionable substances, but he didn't exactly want any of _that_ to get on his face either.

Letting out an exhausted sigh, the con-man begrudgingly jabbed one of the lifeless infected with his foot, grimacing when some of the unknown fluids smeared across his leather shoes.

"Ugh… _grimy__bastards_."

He swung the wooden bat over his shoulder and trudged through the scattered bodies towards the city sidewalk. The battle had been taken to the middle of the street to prevent being cornered, but location meant shit when you had a sea of zombies surround you like a swarm of angry bees. Nick spat at the ground like he did after every horde. Although he usually sealed his lips shut when fighting so nothing foreign would make its way into his mouth, there was always a grainy lingering aftertaste when getting down and dirty with the infected. It was disgusting, to say the least.

He turned to look at the damage he had wrought, his usual poker face faltering for just a bit. Even the line of work he was in before all this shit hit the fan didn't require him to spill _this_much blood. There were much cleaner ways in which he preferred to do this particularly nasty business , but one can't be choosy in the midst of a zombie apocalypse, he figured.

Just as the con-man was starting to enjoy the quiet humming in his ears, which would usually be filled with the moans and shrieks of zombies, an obnoxious voice, echoing off the walls of buildings, was directed in Nick's general direction.

"HEY! HEY, NICK! WAS THAT'A HOOT OR WHAT?"

Oh boy.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, brow drawn into a heavy frown, and slowly swiveled around to see the goofy mechanic jogging towards him like an excited puppy. The axe he carried in his hands had definitely seen better days, but then again it probably wasn't used to jamming itself into the heads and necks of zombies.

Who else but Ellis?

"Man, I didn' think we was gonna make it outta that one!" The younger man slowed to a stop in front of his companion, his wheezy breathing only a sign of how pumped up he had been through all of this. "I mean, after we got separated from Coach and Rochelle and all, I wudn't sure if jus' yew and me could handle a bunch'a flesh-eatin' zombies on our own, 'ya know? But, man oh man, did we ever kick their sorry asses! WOO HOO!" Ellis punched his axe into the air like you'd see one do at a rock concert, clearly too energized to notice the gambler's not-so-carefree demeanor.

Nick rolled his eyes and took one last glance at the havoc they wreaked. "Honestly, I wasn't so sure we'd make it either, judging from the fact that all we have is a busted up old baseball bat and an axe that looks like the head might fall off any minute."

Ellis chuckled, "Naw, man. The only heads that'll be fallin' are the ones I take off with this baby." He hefted the weapon up and did a quick swing for Nick to see, causing the con-man to back up just in case fate's cruel hand decided to let the blade fly off into his face. That _would_save him the trouble of dying by the hands of the infected, though.

"Easy there, sport. Let's not get too cocky. We still gotta find our way back to the others, and I have a feeling it ain't gonna be as easy as dicing up a few infected along the way." Nick brushed by the mechanic and continued down the sidewalk, keeping a vigilant eye out for any stray zombies that might have heard Ellis' unnecessary wooping from earlier. Ellis trailed after him, being just as cautious but still able to talk his jaw off at the same time.

"Well, we couldn' have gotten _too_ far from them, right? I reckon we find them sooner than ya think, Nick."

"Always the optimist, eh?" the con-man mumbled.

"Huh? Whatdj'a say?"

"Let's keep the chit chat to a minimum, overalls."

"Oh, okay."

The two survivors walked a good three blocks without being attacked. The last horde must've been all that was left in this area. It made sense since they were near the river and, once you're a zombie, apparently, you forget all about those swimming lessons you took as a kid. Not even an inner tube and some floaties could keep those vomiting bags of bones above water.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the only reason the group had found themselves by the river. There was supposed to be a bridge that connected from New Orleans over to an evac station where helicopters were lifting survivors out by the dozen. But, as their rotten luck would have it, they were too late getting to the bridge in time before a bunch of military jets (Nick preferred the word "assholes") decided to blow their road of freedom to kingdom come. Amidst all the bombing and confusion, the team scattered to avoid getting hit by pieces of soaring debris and a potential fiery demise. After the smoke cleared and the roar of jets had ceased, the survivors made sure that all of their body parts were still in tact and proceeded to search for each other.

Nick found Ellis first, having landed in the bed of a pickup truck from one of the blasts not too far from the scene. If it weren't for his signature hat that had fallen next to the vehicle, the con-man probably wouldn't have known he was there. The boy was a bit woozy, but he came to pretty quick once the gravity of the situation came rushing back. He and Nick called out for their companions about twenty times, almost ready to start digging through rubble and hoping to high heavens that they didn't find anything, when the familiar boom of Coach's voice rang out from behind a mountain of debris.

After yelling at each other over the ruins for what seemed like forever and coming up with their next move, the now two-people team parted ways and headed in opposite directions along the river. They were to find a safe house for the night and recuperate from their near-death experiences until morning, where they would then proceed to go around all of the damage caused by the jets and regroup once more. It seemed that Rochelle had been badly injured during the fray, so there wasn't much hope of them climbing over all of the demolition, not like any of them wanted to. From there… well, Coach hadn't mentioned anything beyond that. And who could blame him? None of the survivors were sure of what to do now that their only chance of getting out of New Orleans had been quite literally destroyed. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Oh, the irony in those words…

It wasn't until Nick had finished replaying these recent events in his head for the tenth time when he realized that Ellis had been going off on another tale about Keith for who knows how long. It was scary how Nick was able to just tune the kid out nowadays. That's when he knew they had spent too much time together. Although it wasn't so bad half of the time… okay, maybe a quarter of the time. Half was being way too generous. The mechanic had proved himself useful in most situations, however sloppy his methods were. His skills with a shotgun were border line pro, Nick often thought. It wasn't too much of a surprise since the guy was born and raised in hick country, where knowing how to shoot a gun was their first language around here. English was probably a close second… or third. All in all, Ellis was a semi-reliable part of the team. He had saved Nick's life more times than the con-man had taken lives. That was always a good asset to have around.

"Whoops!" Ellis' one pipe bomb detached itself from his coverall's belt loop, rolling a few feet away from him. "Come back here you…" The boy chased after it but failed to retrieve the object as it fell into an open manhole with a splash. "Aww, dang it! Where'd it go?" Ellis got on his hands and knees and shined his flashlight into the darkness, hoping to catch a glimmer of the pipe bomb somewhere in the muck. Nick's eyes were glued to the mechanic's backside.

Okay, so there were a _few_other assets the kid might have that kept the con-man from leaving him behind (accentuation on the "_ass"_in "assets".)

Nick wasn't one to flaunt his sexual preferences to the world. Sometimes he enjoyed a woman's soft, curvy body to hold onto at night, while other days he may have an urge to skip the pillow talk and cater to the primal desires he often shared with his male bed partners. It all depended on his mood… or the first piece of sweet ass that came along, be it man or woman. And right now, with the zombie apocalypse taking a definite toll on the human race and completely sabotaging his consistent sex life, Ellis was the sweetest piece of ass he could ever hope for. Sure, there was Rochelle, but she made it perfectly clear to the con-man that he stood no chances in getting more intimate with her than they needed to be. The closest he'd come to actually making the moves on the reporter was when a Smoker had grabbed her by the leg and Nick had to wrap his arms around her chest from behind to keep the thing from reeling her in. During the panic, his incidental groping had gone unnoticed by Coach and Ellis, thankfully. Rochelle, however…

Nick rubbed the sore spot on his head from where she had clocked him with her cricket paddle after they'd killed the Smoker. Thus, Nick had prepared to unwillingly accept his bleak future of celibacy until he finally found a way out of this Godless era.

But then again…

Nick strolled up behind the mechanic and watched as the younger man attempted to shine the light further into the manhole, dead set on finding that long gone pipe bomb. The con-man's nose wrinkled at the smell emitting from the sewers below.

"Forget it, Ellis. Unless you plan on going down there yourself and getting covered in shit, I suggest we move on. Although, if you _do_ decide to go with that option, you can bet that manhole won't be open when you come back up. There's no way I'm traveling with someone who smells like the ass-end of a Boomer."

Ellis looked over his shoulder at the gambling man, wearing one of those tell tale mischievous smirks when he was about to make a comeback. "Well gee, Nick, I'm perty sure the smell of yer suit would mask any stank comin' offa' me." The mechanic made brief eye contact with the numerous amount of bile stains and other strange fluids coating the once white fabric of Nick's attire.

Nick just stared the boy down, his stern expression unchanging like the card player he was known to be. Ellis stared back, not wanting to be the first to look away like some yellow-bellied sissy. He _did_flinch, though, when Nick jerked forward at him as if he were about to push the hick down the manhole, but kept walking instead. Ellis chuckled to himself, enjoying the playful banter he and Nick shared sometimes, even if the con-man himself didn't find it very funny. He rose from the dirty sidewalk, brushed off his pants and went to catch up with his companion. The loss of his only pipe bomb was unfortunate, but they were liable to find others along the way with any luck.

" 'Ey, Nick. You think Rochelle's gonna be okay?" Perhaps he could redeem himself from getting the gambler in a bad mood by changing the subject?

"I don't know, overalls. I'm not exactly with them, am I?"

"Man, I sure hope she idn't hurt too badly. I remember this one time Kei-"

"Let me guess," Nick interrupted, "… Keith decided to go get himself blown up next to a bridge and ended up breaking almost every bone in his body? Oh wait, I think I've heard that one before." His tone was drenched with sarcasm.

"That wasn't what I was goin' to say, Nick," Ellis chided him. The con-man rolled his eyes for the zillionth time that day and sighed.

"Yeah, well there's probably not going to be much of a difference between the story you're about to tell me compared to the ones I've already heard."

"Are yew kiddin' me? Have you been listening to my stories at _all_? Keith has done all _kinds_of things, I'm telling' ya. You just need to get out more, man."

Nick snorted, "Well whatdya' call _this_ then? Huh?" He was referring to everything they had been through since day one of the infection.

"The zombie apocalypse don't count, Nick. I'm talkin' 'bout for fun!"

"I thought you were having 'fun' killing all these things?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong. It's cool to be bustin' some zombie heads like in my video games at home an' all, but I don't think it'd be my first choice."

"Tch. You talk about it like you're trying to decide which college to apply to." The con-man shook his head, taking a solid whack at a wandering infected who had spotted them from it's perch next to a dumpster.

"But Nick, didn' you ever go out fer fun sometimes, like with yer gamblin' buddies or whatever?"

Nick let out a brisk laugh. "First of all, sport, I didn't have any 'gamblin' buddies'," he mimicked in the hick's accent. Not shortly after one zombie came running after him, another one appeared from out of an alleyway. He swung with more force than he meant and heard _two_cracking sounds besides the usual one that came from the bat-to-skull contact. "Second of all, _my_ idea of going out and _your_idea of going out are two completely different things goddammit why did this have to break of all times?" He held up the splintered baseball bat to examine the damage. The barrel was split in two, rendering the weapon virtually useless in Nick's eyes.

"It had a good run." Ellis' way of comforting fell on deaf ears as the con-man threw the piece of severed wood to the ground, hating the dead clunking sound it made when hitting the concrete. He turned his attention to Ellis' axe and snatched the weapon out of his hands.

"Ah- hey!"

"Oh, don't even start! You still got a frying pan on your belt. Me? I got nothing. Didn' yer dear ol' mother ever teach you 'bout sharin', _Ay-lus?"_

That shut the mechanic up right quick, but it didn't stop him from grumbling to himself while trying to get used to the lightweight feel of the skillet he unhooked from his waist. It's not like he couldn't K.O. some zombies with it. Hell, he was sure he could decimate an _entire_ flock of infected with his mama's kitchenware alone, but axes and chainsaws trumped pots 'n' pans any day, hands down.

Ellis stayed a few steps behind the con-man this time, not wanting to make him more irritated than he already was. Although Nick wasn't exactly the social butterfly of their group, he was still a pretty cool guy… Okay, he was a _really_cool guy. The gambler was one badass, zombie-killing machine, a title he usually reserved for himself. In fact, he was _almost_as awesome as his pal, Keith! And that was saying a lot. Maybe he held the man in too high of regards, or at least that's what Coach and Rochelle would say, but Ellis knew a BAMF when he saw one.

Now, sometimes Ellis would find his thoughts drifting towards Nick on a daily basis. It would go from how awesome he was at mowing down a horde, to his intellect on things Ellis wouldn't have even thought about during a zombie apocalypse, to the slick way his clothes made him look like he was part of the NY mafia (which may not have been entirely untrue), to the subtle way he smirked when amused by the mechanic's antics, to those sharp eyes that didn't miss a beat…

By this time, Ellis would have shook the thoughts out of his head on a count of how personal they were getting. It kind of scared him, honestly. He had always looked up to Nick as an idol of some sorts, but when it came to admiring his facial features like he would a girl's, it just became plain weird. Ellis wasn't one to dwell on troublesome matters for too long, and he'd treat these sudden revelations in the same respect… or at least he'd _tried_to. The mechanic had never met a man like Nicholas before, not in all his years in Savannah or out of it. He was like a good book that simply couldn't be put down, not that Ellis did much reading anyway. There were so many interesting things about him that the boy had a constant urge to get to know him at every waking moment. Of the three people he'd come to call family this past month or so, Nick was still quite a mystery. Maybe that's what made him so cool? He wasn't a wear-your-heart-on-your-sleeve kind of guy, like himself. Sometimes Ellis would smile thinking how Nick might be a superhero in real life and that he puts on this tough guy attitude so that no one can figure out his secret identity. He'd be like that Green Hornet fellow; pretending to be a criminal, when really he's cracking down on crime behind the scenes.

That'd be _sweeeeet!_

"Hn? You say something, overalls?"

"Huh?" Ellis snapped out of his daydreaming and directed his dumbfounded gaze towards the con-man who was looking at him from over his shoulder. He had accidentally said that last thought out loud. "Uhh, no! I was just… thinkin' 'bout how cool it'd be to throw some boomer bile at one of them gas stations so we could light up those zombies like the 4th of July," He responded with a lopsided grin plastered onto his face, praying to dear God that the gambler wouldn't call his bluff.

Nick just gave the boy a thoughtful look, raising his eyebrows and nodding a bit. "Hm. You know what? Not a bad idea. Looks like there's hope for you yet, hayseed."

Despite the blatant name calling, Ellis swelled with joy at the con-man's praise. Such a small thing shouldn't have made him so happy, but it didn't feel wrong at all. With an extra spring in his step, Ellis moseyed on up next to his companion, still sporting a proud grin on his face and ready to take on whatever the world threw at them.

_eeeeeeEEEEEEEUUUUAAHHHH~_

Or so he thought.

The two men stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and sweeping the terrain for any sign of where and _what_the noise was coming from.

"What the fuck was _that?"_Nick said between clenched teeth. He didn't want to be too loud in case the thing was nearby.

Ellis stood frozen in place, taking on the same cautious stance as the con-man, and replied in a low pronounced fashion, "I have no earthly idea, man."

The wailing continued, a rather high, muffled sound as if it was covered up by something. A few gurgles and sharp hiccups made it all the more ominous.

"Hey, ya know, what if it's one of them spittin' bitches." Ellis perked up, hoping that the thing _was_a Spitter so that they'd at least know what it is.

"I don't think so. It's not like any zombie we've faced, I can tell ya that." Nick took a few apprehensive steps forward and moved closer to the side of the buildings. When standing in the middle of the street, the noise would reverberate off the walls too much for him to pin point the sound's origin. Ellis followed suit and tightened his grip on the frying pan's handle.

"It kind of sounds like it's cryin', Nick. Maybe it's a Witch?"

"Could be, but it's… different than the Witches we've heard before." In any case, he hoped they could walk right past it like they would a Witch."

"Okay, but I swear I hear cryin'," the mechanic said with certainty.

It was at that moment when the two survivors finally figured out where the wailing was coming from. Both men turned around very slowly to peer inside one of the abandoned apartments that loomed over them. The window was broken on the floor above them, and that's exactly where the sound seemed to be pouring out.

"…'Ey, ya know… it could always be a female Smoker or somethin'. I mean, yew never kn-"

"Ellis, shut up," Nick said without looking at the boy and made a beeline for the front doors of the building. Luckily, the glass panes of the double doors had been shattered for them, so all he had to do was step through in one fluid motion.

"Ah- hey, Nick! What're yew doin'?" Ellis called after him in a hushed tone.

After looking around to make sure no infected were concealed within the darkness of the apartment lobby, Nick popped his head out the door. "If this thing we're hearing is some kind of new zombie shit that we haven't seen before, I'd rather get to it first before it gets us." With that, the con-man slipped back inside and went straight for the staircase. "You coming, overalls?"

Ellis hesitated for a moment, but figured he'd rather stick with the one other person with a weapon than stay out in the open all alone. Besides, he was extremely curious to see what was making that god awful racket up there. After nearly tripping over the doorway, the boy caught up with Nick and tip-toed up the stairwell. After reaching the first door they came to, Nick carefully opened it and checked to make sure it was all clear. He motioned Ellis inside the hallway, backs up against the wall and senses heightened.

The hall was eerie, and a bit too… white, for Nick. He loved the color on his suit, but it made the place look more like a hospital than an apartment. The only difference was that a hospital was usually quite sterile-looking, when as for the apartment… not so much.

He stepped over bits and pieces of household items, glass, and other debris peppered across the hallway. Oh, and a couple dead bodies, but that was a given. They were headed in the direction of the soft whining that wafted through the corridor like a ghostly echo. It was enough to put the mechanic's neck hair on edge. He was always told by his mama that ghosts weren't real because God would never leave a poor soul to aimlessly wander around on earth with nowhere to go. It was either heaven, or hell, depending on the person a soul belonged to. And yet, here he was fighting zombies, which he was _also_told weren't real. Nowadays, Ellis left these kind of things open for opinion.

When they came to the door where the wailing was coming from, room 202, Nick took one side and Ellis took the other, weapons poised and ready to strike if need be.

"Okay, Ellis." Nick only said the kid's full name when he wanted him to pay close attention. "On my count, we open the door and see what kind of hell awaits us in that room, got it?"

"Roger," the boy nodded, hands twisting around the skillet's handle.

"Alright. One… two… _three!"_

Nick grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open all the way (thankful that it was open in the first place), letting it hit the back of the wall. Ellis, feeling rather brave at the moment, swooped in and had his frying pan raised to kill when necessary.

But it was, in fact, _un_necessary.

The room was empty, save for some ratty old furniture and clothing strewn about the floor. The curtains that were hung up over the broken window billowed into the space elegantly, almost unfitting for such a desolate scene. There didn't seem to be a sign of life anywhere, let alone zombies. Nick lowered his axe and placed a hand on his hip.

"Uhhh, okay? This _should_ be the right room." He walked further into the apartment's den and searched all the nooks and crannies where infected may take refuge.

Ellis did the same for the kitchen, but got the same results.

"What the hell? As soon as we come up here, the noise just decides to stop? Something ain't right about that…"

"Hey, look!" Ellis held up a machete that he found on the kitchen counter. "Awwwrrriiight! I'm gonna cook me up some zombie sushi with this!" He sliced the air a few times to get a feel for his shiny new toy. Nick just smirked and shook his head, ignoring the fact that Ellis had referred to sushi as being "cooked". What a goober.

The con-man continued looking around the apartment and was about to open up the broom closet when he heard and audible gasp come from the other side of the room.

"Uhh, Nick? Yew might wanna come see this… or not, 'cuz it's perty gross."

The gambler let out a long sigh and lumbered over to the bathroom where Ellis' back blocked the doorway.

"What is it this time, champ? Was the noise we heard a Spitter taking a shit?" As he got closer, he could see that Ellis' face was set into an uncomfortable grimace towards whatever he was staring at. When the con-man pushed him over a bit, he could understand why.

"Jesus Christ…"

The bitter metallic smell was overwhelming in the little room, no doubt from all of the blood that had turned the bath water a faded red. It had, at one time, slowly seeped from the wounds imbedded in the young woman's skin, eventually killing her. A blood-crusted knife lay at the side of the tub where one of the woman's arms was hanging out, an obvious hint that this was most definitely _not_the work of an infected.

Nick didn't seem to be too effected by the carnage and simply held a hand up to his nose to block the stench.

Ellis, on the other hand, removed his hat from his head and kneaded it in his hands, obviously a bit distraught by the horrific sight. In a quiet voice, he asked, "… Why'd yew think she did it?"

The con-man scoffed, "Well, considering the circumstances, I'd say she decided to take the easy way out before this whole mess came knocking on her front door." He leaned down to grab the knife and examine it's current state. "The human mind is fragile, El, and apparently this woman didn't think she'd come outta this alive, especially when you have no one else around to tell you otherwise. If you ask me, she probably did herself a favor." Nick turned towards the sink, grabbing a hand towel hanging over the edge so he could chip off the dried blood. Might as well make use of the thing.

Ellis was muttering something under his breath that the con-man couldn't quite hear. He was about to ask the boy to repeat himself, but, when he heard a solemn "amen" at the end, that seemed to answered his question.

"Poor girl," Ellis said. "Yew think, maybe, if we'd gotten here sooner, she'd still be alive an' all?"

"Frankly, kid, I think-"

Nick paused in what he was about to say and stared at the towel he was using to wipe the knife with. Some parts of the blood came off as bright red on the white cotton cloth, which was unusual for someone who was supposed to have been dead for a while. Perhaps this didn't happen too long ago after all…

Ellis kept his eyes on Nick's back expectantly, waiting for the man to finish his sentence. The gambler shoved the towel in his inside coat pocket and attached the knife to his thigh holster. There was no need to let the mechanic know about his discovery, lest he make him even more upset.

"… I don't know. Doesn't matter now, does it?" Nick shrugged and made his way out of the bathroom before he got dizzy from the smell. Ellis gave one last heartbroken look at the corpse, closed the shower curtain out of respect, and slipped his hat back on.

"Sorry, miss." He certainly didn't have anything to apologize for, but Ellis still felt bad for the woman nonetheless. With that final sentiment, he stepped out of the cramped space and closed the door.

Nick had migrated to the bedroom, which was rather big for a medium-sized apartment. Everything looked pretty normal, albeit untidy.

"Guess the maid turned before her next visit." In spite of the dark undertone of his jest, Nick snickered to himself. He moved articles of clothing and other junk around with his axe and did a quick rummage through the closet to see if anything useful presented itself. No such luck.

"Nothing," he said, warily. "Then where did that noise come from?" He hadn't forgotten about the high shrills they'd heard from the streets. What could have possibly made that sound? There's no way it was the woman in the tub. Although she had died somewhat recently, it hadn't been in the last few minutes, that's for sure. Maybe the thing had moved on, whatever the _thing_was?"

Nick was about to give up his search and seizure when something white caught the corner of his eye. He took a few steps toward the foot of the queen sized bed and saw that it was a piece of paper with writing scribbled on top. In _cursive_, no less! Nick hadn't seen cursive handwriting since he last wrote his 'John Hancock' from a credit card transaction, which wasn't very often since he was a convicted felon back in those days. The con-man picked up the note and struggled to make out the sloppy handwriting, silently reading the message out loud to himself.

_To who soever finds this… _

_I can't do it anymore. I'm all alone and I don't believe I'll be alive for much longer. I've decided to take matters into my own hands. If you are a survivor, I'm afraid you may have to use a different bathroom in this building._

'Did this girl just make a joke in her suicide note?' Nick thought. 'Well, at least her sense of humor hadn't died along with her.'

_I can only hope that God can forgive me in my time of weakness. I was not able to take her with me. It is a cruel fate I have left her with, but, as a mother, I just couldn't…_

_Please understand, whoever you are._

'Lady, I don't understand half of what you're saying, and I don't think I want to.'

_If she's still alive when you find her, then it may be best to just put her out of her misery… or, perhaps you would be kind-hearted enough to take her with you? I, myself, have failed her, for I could do neither. But please, don't let my selfish request be a burden to you. My dying wishes shouldn't mean anything to a stranger._

'Okaaay…? This woman has officially lost me.'

_Thank you for taking the time to read this note of mine. I would hope that my last words were able to reach **somebody**in these dark days. May you be safe in your travels, wherever they take you, and God bless._

_~Christina_

_P.S. - Her food is in the pantry._

'Geez, I didn't think she'd write down her life story. At least she had the decency to tell me about where some food is stashed.'

Nick didn't have much respect for those who took their own lives. Why end something so easily when you could go out with a bang? And how depressed did you have to be to want to slit your own wrists, or jump off a bridge, or blow your brains out? It just didn't make any sense to the gambler. Yeah, he had his moments of absolute lows, but never did he once contemplate killing himself. Not to mention, his dealings in the past didn't exactly exempt him from an imminent death, anyway. He figured one of his enemies would do him in sooner or later, _if_they could catch him, that is.

"Well, so long, Christina." He flicked the note onto the bed again just when Ellis came tromping into the room with his chunky work boots.

"Dja' find anythin', Nick?" The mechanic asked, scratching his stomach.

"Nada." Not entirely true, but why traumatize the kid more than he already was? "Looks like we might've scared off whatev-"

_uuueeeeeeeaaahhh~_

The two men saw each other's eyes bug out before turning their attention towards the bedroom window where a large square piece of furniture had been covered with a sheet. Neither of them moved for a while, wondering if something was going to jump out and maim them like their imaginations were leading them to think. Before Ellis could say a word, Nick held up his hand and gradually made his way over to the hidden structure with the mechanic following after, their weapons raised high. Once they had positioned themselves over the source of the noise, Nick carefully grabbed a fist full of the sheet and tore it off in one swift motion.

_Uuuwwaaahhhhhhhh~_

The baby squirmed around in its pink crib, it's face all scrunched up from crying and rosy cheeks wet with tears.

"You've gotta be shitting me."

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** Hope you all enjoyed the first part to "Mess-Maker"! I promise there will be more Nellis loving' in the next chapter. ; ) I would greatly appreciate feedback if possible. Any and all senseless flames will either be ignored or shot down._

_Thank you for reading!_


	2. Part 2

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

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_**Part 2**_

"Oh mah _GAWD_, is that what I think it is?"

Ellis dropped his machete and let his mouth hang wide open. Nick did the same with the sheet he was holding and shook his head incredulously.

"If by 'it' you mean a fucking baby, then I'm not the only one hallucinating."

_Uuuuaaaaahhhh~_

"It looks real enough to me, Nick. Even sounds real!" Ellis said, leaning in closer to the crib. "I think it's a girl, on account a' all the pink."

"Okay, that's great and all, but the whole point is that there's a fucking baby here."

Ellis lifted an eyebrow at the con-man. "Yeah? What's so hard ta understand, Nick?"

"No, no, no. What's hard for _you_ to understand is that this thing is here in the first place. After months of zombies strolling in and out of this city, how is it that it's still alive?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know that? I might'a been a baby at one point in mah life, but that don't mean I know a lick about'em," Ellis said in his defense.

"It just doesn't make any sense…" Nick scratched his head and blinked a few times to make sure he hadn't finally lost his marbles. So, this was the so-called "creature" they heard from outside? How had he misinterpreted the sound of a _baby_ with a zombie? Had it been that long since he'd heard one cry? He couldn't remember the last time he even saw a baby. What the hell was one doing in a crib; it was like the zombie apocalypse had never happened!

Then he remembered the suicide note.

And the dead woman in the tub.

…

Everything clicked into place like a three-piece jigsaw puzzle after that.

"Shit…" he said softly.

"Hey… Nick?" Ellis spoke up. "You think that… the girl in the bathroom… that this is her…?"

'You read my mind, sport.'

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." The con-man turned around to face the crib again, leaning on the edge with both his hands. "Looks like little Annie just became an orphan."

"Annie? How do ya know her name?"

"… I don't. It's called a cultural reference, kid."

Ellis just shrugged and decided not to ask anymore about it.

"Sooo… what do we do?"

_What do we do._

That was the million dollar question, wasn't it? Nick pursed his lips in thought, fingers digging into the crib's wooden railing. Of all things, he never expected to come across something like this on their travels. Hell, he figured that the infection had wiped out any and all children below the ages of twelve because their bodies couldn't handle the sickness, but here was living, breathing proof that he, and the rumors he'd heard, were wrong. Nick would never cease to be baffled by this strange phenomenon, but that wasn't the issue they needed to dwell on at the moment.

Ellis' eyes shifted from the infant to Nick about a dozen times while the con-man was thinking. He finally settled on looking at the baby girl and decided to make sure she wasn't hurt or bitten anywhere. She seemed untouched, which was a relief, but there was a definite and distinct stench coming off of her that warranted an unchanged diaper. It didn't bother the mechanic that much, though, seeing as he'd smelled worse things in his life, even outside of the zombie apocalypse. There were a ton of Keith stories he could tell of their grotesque pranks and misadventures involving filth of all kinds.

During a pause in the baby's keening, it's plushy pink lips slipped out into a full pout, obviously a bit angry at the two people just standing there doing nothing to tend to her. This caused Ellis to chuckle, amused that she could make such an expression at this young of age.

Nick's eyes watched the interaction between the two and, with his mouth set into a tight frown, put a period on the end of his thought process. He lifted the axe onto his shoulder and turned to exit the room.

The mechanic did a double-take before realizing that Nick was leaving. He pulled his finger away from the baby, who had taken a hold of it out of curiosity, and called out to the con-man, "Where ya goin'?"

"We're leaving. Grab your butter knife and let's go."

"Oh. Okay, hang on a sec…" Ellis slipped the machete through one of his belt loops. "Let me just grab th-"

"_Without_ the baby."

That command hung in the air for a few seconds, stalling both of the men in their current actions. Ellis was the first to speak.

"Yew… yew wanna _leave_ her here?" The quiet shock in his voice was nothing Nick hadn't expected.

Nick stopped at the bedroom doorway. "We can't be carrying around a baby in a goddamn zombie apocalypse, Ellis," he said in an exasperated tone. "There's no way it would survive outside of these walls, let alone with us. I mean, seriously, you're kind of a zombie magnet, ya know that?"

"But we can't just leave it here to _die_, Nick! That ain't right!"

"Oh c'mon, the zombies would have gotten to it eventually."

"Not unless we take her with us!"

"Yeah? And what would you suggest we do with her, huh? Roll her down the street in a little pink buggy? Feed her, burp her, clean up her puke (not like we don't have enough of that on our hands)? Ellis, it would attract zombies like flies with it's crying alone."

"Well then we just gotta make her _stop_ cryin'. Shouldn' be that hard." The mechanic turned around once more and pulled the fussy infant out of the comfort of it's crib. He was so set on showing how determined he was to bring this little girl with them that he momentarily forgot to put a hand behind her head.

"Watch it-!" The con-man shot a hand out, even though he was a good few feet away from them.

Ellis quickly corrected his positioning and supported her head properly this time, bouncing the baby in his arms to try to calm her down. He gave the con-man a quirky grin.

Nick shoved the traitorous hand into his pocket, averting his eyes as if he had flicked an internal switch back to "cold and uncaring".

"Hey, 'ey, 'ey… _shhhhh shh shh shhh_… It's okay, baby girl. Uncle Ellis' got'chew," the mechanic cooed while rocking her gently. The infant's limbs jerked around from the discomfort she was in, clearly not pacified by the boy's attempts at making her happy. But, just like her, he was a stubborn individual who wouldn't give up so easily. Ellis knew that if he couldn't find a way to make her stop crying, Nick would never let her tag along. In fact, crying or no crying, Nick's decision would probably remain the same.

That's when the mechanic formed an idea.

"Alright, Nick, " he said, directing a confident gaze at the con-man. "How much you wanna bet I can get her to stop cryin'?"

The con-man's gaze slowly fell on Ellis', one eyebrow arching. There was a sudden aura coming off of Nick that sent chills up his spine. Those alluring bedroom eyes were meant for more than just the bedroom, it seemed.

"You serious, kid?" he asked in a low voice.

"Serious as a heart attack." Although Ellis' boldness usually got him places, he was still rather intimidated by the electricity that Nick emitted when his gambling fix was being catered to.

Unfortunately, the con-man held back from taking the bait and shook his head. "Forget it, kid. I know what you're trying to pull, and it ain't gonna work. I've spent half my life doing it."

"Yew don' think I can do it? I'll prove it to ya, right here, right now!" Ellis gave a cocky nod of his head.

"Oh? And just what exactly would the stakes be in this ridiculous wager?"

"She comes with us." Plain, simple, and ever so typical.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Nick knew when he was being cheated out of a con, and the mechanic was doing a piss poor job of hiding it. "There's too little to go on. You're gonna have to add to the pile if you want me play, sport." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Ellis bit the side of his lower lip and knitted his brow together, clearly thinking of a way to sweeten the deal. His eyes lit up when a new approach struck him. "Fine, Mr. Gamblin' Man. I bet I can get her to stop cryin' and keep her from cryin' for the next… hour."

...

"Two hours."

"Hour and a half."

"Hour and forty-five minutes. Final offer, kid. Take it or leave it."

And that was that.

"Okay, okay. Hour and forty-five minutes. I bet yew I could even put her 'ta sleep if I wanted," he grinned.

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" The con-man returned the smile, but in a more dastardly manner.

"_AND_, and no tricks! You can't do anythin' like scarin' her or whatever 'ta make her cry! Got that?" He jabbed a finger in Nick's direction, hoping he looked as resolute as he sounded.

"Shouldn't you be proving me wrong before you start laying down the rules?" He gestured to the still whimpering infant in the mechanic's arms. "Just so you know, if you can't get it to shut up sooner or later, we're leaving it here. _Got that?_" He said in a more jeering way than Ellis had.

The boy didn't respond, giving the fellow survivor one last pensive look before returning his attention towards the baby girl. His steady rocking had helped to quell the temper tantrum at least, but she still had tears leaking from the corner of her pretty hazel eyes. They were very similar to her mother's… the southerner shook himself of that tragic image in the bathroom and focused on the task at hand.

First thing was first; changing her out of that dirty diaper. Who knew how long she'd been stewing in her own juices, so to speak?

With great care, Ellis laid her on the floral patterned bed and began aimlessly looking around for a package of diapers or some kind of baby bag. He slipped his fingers underneath his cap and scratched the dry scalp, a common habit he displayed when feeling pressured. Nick simply stood where he was and watched the humorous scene before him. The kid seemed so lost, it was almost painful to watch. He was only twenty-three, for God's sake, and, as far as Nick knew, he didn't have any younger siblings that he'd had to practice on in these particular situations.

Once the boy had found a baby bag in a space between the crib and the dresser, he hoisted it up on the bed and rifled through it for the required supplies.

"Awright, girl. Yew just let ol' Ellis make everythin' right again. Don't yew worry none." He managed to get the diaper off through the infant's wriggling and began the grueling process. "_Whoooo-weee!_ Smells like yew dropped a bomb, baby!" He laughed and recoiled away from the stench, quickly disposing of the dirty diaper into a small trash bin next to the bed.

Nick was mildly surprised that the mechanic knew how to change a diaper right off the bat. He didn't seem like the kind of guy who would possess such knowledge considering his lifestyle.

"I had 'ta babysit for my mama's friend's kids a couple times when I was younger," he said, as if knowing what Nick was thinking. "It was an easy way of gettin' some cash when I needed it. One of them was only a few months old, an' I had 'ta change his diapers all the time. I swear, he was like a poopin' machine! How can so much shit come outta such a tiny thing? Ha ha, _oh man…_"

Ellis' ramblings, while often times irritating to others, seemed to soothe the baby below him. She stared at the mechanic with her big doe eyes as he talked, mouth still in a slight pout, but the tears were coming to their end, thankfully.

He patched her up with a brand new diaper once he'd applied the necessary powder, and secured the tape that would hold his handiwork together. The baby didn't look like she was uncomfortable, so Ellis immediately picked her back up in his arms and turned to show Nick.

"Ta-da~! Told ya I could do it." His cheeky grin made the con-man scoff.

"Uhh, hold it right there, kiddo. I don't think she's quite satisfied yet." He pointed to the baby's face as it was starting to scrunch up again. A few unhappy hiccups and that was all Ellis needed to hear before he realized that his job was far from done.

"What's wrong, girl? Yew hungry or somethin'? I don' have any food on me, though." This seemed to make the infant even more upset, even if she couldn't understand him. "Nick, I… I don't know what…" He didn't want to ask for help since that wasn't part of their bet, but the boy honestly wasn't sure how he was going to feed the poor child without any food around. He was at a loss.

"Hold on a second." Nick left the bedroom without informing Ellis of what he was going to do. After the mechanic heard some bustling in what sounded like the kitchen, his companion came back with a small jar of yellow stuff and a spoon.

"What's that?"

"What does it look like?" With a pop, Nick twisted off the lid and swirled the baby food around with the spoon. "Hope she likes bananas. Here." He shoved the jar in Ellis' free hand and crossed his arms. "Finish what you started."

Ellis nodded and sat down on the bed, keeping the baby snug in his lap. He scooped a spoonful of the yellow glop out of the jar and examined it with scrutiny. "Yew sure she's supposed to eat this? It looks kinda… inedible."

"It's a baby. They don't know the difference between food and crap. Just give it to her; she'll eat it," Nick shrugged. "And didn't you say you've done this before?"

"Uhh, yeah, but it's been a long time since then, man. _Years_!"

"Well, if you've got a busted hand, then maybe you shouldn't have tried buying the pot in the first place."

While he didn't know much about gambling terminology, Ellis wouldn't let Nick's words bring him down. He carefully moved the pasty banana concoction towards the baby's mouth until it almost touched her lips.

"Here ya go, girl. Yer probably perty hungry after bein' all by yerself fer so long."

The infant eventually gave into the temptation of food and opened her mouth to receive the mushy substance. She seemed to like the food after the first few bites, aside from spitting it up a couple of times like most babies do, and even Ellis looked like he was starting to enjoy the simple routine.

"Hey Ellis, here comes the airplane~," Nick teased. The mechanic just glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

Once the entire jar of banana surprise had been emptied, Ellis wiped the baby's mouth and slung her up to his shoulder. He stood up and resumed his cooing while gently patting her back, waiting for the oncoming burp that was bound to come out.

Nick watched how Ellis bounced her up and down while waltzing around in circles. He'd started singing a little tune under his breath, nearly lulling her to sleep with his sweet southern drawl. At one point, the boy turned away from the bedroom door where Nick had taken root, his broad back facing him along with the baby's head that was resting in the crook between his neck and shoulder. She made abrupt eye contact with the con-man and stared so hard that Nick was afraid she'd bore holes in his suit. He felt a twinge of envy seeing her nestled against that bronzed skin, or whatever his shirt didn't cover up. He'd wanted to experience that feeling with the kid for quite a while now. Not in the exact same way, per se, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't get these sudden urges to press himself against that body of his; to feel the warmth of skin against skin again, back when the world was in order. It was practically a crime to look like that and turn out to be some podunk mechanic! Although, the thought of a, preferably, shirtless Ellis working under the hood of his car didn't produce such a bad image…

"Where'd you find the baby food?"

"Huh? Oh…" Nick pushed the fantasy into the back of his mind to save for later. "In the kitchen pantry. I just figured that's where baby food would be if there were any. Luckily it's one of those things that has an expiration date of infinity." He had snatched up the suicide note from the bed when Ellis wasn't looking so that he wouldn't find out _how_ Nick knew about the food, still intending to keep that morbid piece of evidence from the boy.

"I guess we should grab more on the way out then." The mechanic made a pleased expression when he heard the tell tale burp come from over his shoulder. He had been spared any puke, for now.

"Woah there, overalls. You still want to drag it along after all that trouble? There's not gonna be any diaper changing stations where we're headed, you know."

"_Yes_, I still wanna take _HER_ with us, Nick, and there ain't nothin' s'gonna change my mind about it. Not yew, or your pissy fits." He responded in a stern voice, leaving no room for argument. Ellis was well aware of the dangers that awaited them beyond the safety of this room, especially with a one year old as the newest member of their team. But, _by God_, he was _not_ going to leave this little girl for zombie chow!

"Christ…" Frustrated, Nick shook his head and turned towards the door. After a few moments of heavy silence, the con-man sighed and bit the inner skin on his lip. A deal was a deal, after all, and this bet was far from being over in the long run. "Fine. Pack her up and let's go. We sit here on our asses too long, Coach and Ro will wind up thinking we're dead in a ditch somewhere." He roughly grabbed his axe from against the wall and made his way out into the living room.

Ellis smiled gleefully when Nick wasn't looking and set the baby down on the bed to load up on some supplies. She already had some footie pajamas on, so there was no need to worry about clothing. He then took the blanket found in the crib and wrapped the little girl up into a bundle so that she'd be slightly protected from the elements. During his actions, he came upon another problem; there was no way he could carry the girl while wielding a weapon, so he had to find an alternative to a stroller or carrier. There wasn't a piece of cloth long enough to do the job of a sling, until he spotted the big blue curtains rippling gracefully in the open window. The mechanic yanked on the drapery until it was taut and whipped out his machete to slice at the fabric, forming a perfect substitute for a baby hammock. After tying the knot around his torso and making sure there was enough slack, he turned the sling around, placed the baby inside the little curve, and twisted it back around so that the infant was curled up behind him. It wasn't the best make-shift sling, but it'd have to do for now. The last few items he needed were all contained within the baby bag, which he put on like one would a sash, including a baby bottle, some stuffed toys, extra diapers, wipes, powder, and a small towel for spit-ups.

He joined Nick in the den, showing off his baby gear with a thumbs up.

The con-man couldn't hide his amusement when he saw the two. "Ha! You got a whole system worked out there?" He handed the mechanic the rest of the food jars to put in the baby bag.

"Yep," Ellis chirped. "Me and her; we gonna have a good time. Ain't that right, Georgia?"

"Wait, wait… you _named_ her?" Nick had stopped himself from saying "it" this time since Ellis seemed rather perturbed about before.

"Well, yeah! What else we gonna call 'er? We don' know what her mom and dad named her."

"Ellis, once you've named her, you're gonna start getting too attached, and it'll be that much harder to say goodbye when the time comes."

"… Say goodbye?"

Nick snorted, "Tch, what? You were planning on _adopting_ her or something? Be realistic, Ellis. You aren't her daddy. The best thing to do when we get out of here for good is to pass her off to someone who can, and is willing, to take care of her. I'm sure there's tons of child-less moms out there who'd love to have their baby back, or at least a version thereof."

"I-I know that. I do."

"Good. Then let's go. We've wasted enough time here already." The con-man exited out the front door and back into eerie hallway.

The baby squirmed against Ellis' back for a second before settling down again, hopefully into a long fitful nap. He glanced behind his shoulder at the tiny face. Nick was right about one thing; she needed to find a proper home after this. Keeping the baby with them wasn't really a luxury he could afford, not that he was thinking about keeping her _permanently_…

Ellis forced himself to stop dwelling on these issues and jogged to catch up with Nick, who had already reached the stairwell down the hall. The only thing he had to focus on now was making sure little Georgia didn't start crying again, otherwise the big bad Nick might huff and puff and throw her to the zombies. But no one could be _that_ heartless, right?

Although, when it came to the con-man…

Ellis had a feeling that those forty-five extra minutes added on to his original one hour deal would be a lot longer than he thought.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** Hope you all enjoyed the second part to "Mess-Maker"! I know I promised there would be more Nellis lovin' in this chapter, but I decided to draw out the story more than I originally intended. Hope you guys don't mind being patient!_

_And, as always, thank you for reading!_


	3. Part 3

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy!_

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_**Part 3**_

A few more infected showed up later in the day as Nick, Ellis, and their unexpected fellow survivor, Georgia, all made their way further into the decimated city. There were miles of destruction caused by those fighter jets from earlier. They hadn't just blown up the bridge, they took out a large area surrounding it just for good measure. A lot of the buildings had been leveled or about ready to collapse, creating a hazardous terrain which made it nearly impossible for Nick and Ellis to even dare to traverse - at least until they cleared most of the wreckage. Hiking wasn't a bad pastime or anything, but they weren't Bear-fucking-Grylls, for Christ's sake.

Coach and Rochelle would be lucky enough to come across a safe house that the team had stayed in not too long ago, since they were on that side of town. However, the mechanic and the con man would not be endowed with such fortune.

"Damn. I don't even know where the hell we are," Nick muttered gruffly.

Ellis checked on Georgia for the millionth time since they'd brought her along to make sure she was still alive and kicking. Even while he was slashing zombies into ribbons with his machete, she hadn't woken up. "Maybe we shoulda' stayed along the river? There mighta' been another bridge we coulda' crossed."

"What, and get ourselves even more turned around? Besides, we don't know how far away the next bridge is. It'd probably take us days to get to one." Nick rolled his right shoulder until he heard a distinct pop. "And, I don't know about you, but downgrading from a four-man team to a two and a half-man team is starting to take its toll on me. So, no. I'd rather find them and _then _get out of this hell hole."

"Aw, c'mon, Nick. We ain't seen many zombies since we left the apartments. I figure all the bombin' scared most of'em off, or killed'em. Yew can't tell me yer tired already?"

Nick was actually referring to the fact that the absence of Coach and Rochelle, the only other people in their group who didn't have the mindset of a teenager with ADD, was slowly starting to grate on his nerves. The con man didn't even have the energy say this out loud, so he dropped the subject and kept moving forward.

"I'm surprised _you _haven't gotten tired of carrying that barf bag around yet."

"It's only been thirty minutes, man. And guess what? She's sleepin' like a log, this girl!" He kept the volume of his voice low so as not to wake the snoozing infant.

"Yeah, well you still got an hour and fifteen minutes to go, sport. A lot can happen between now and then." The con man's warning didn't have any cynicism in it, nor did he mean to mock the boy; he was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Secretly, Nick didn't really want to win the bet because that would mean a shit ton of trouble for all of them. Right now, the baby was dead to the world, but it wouldn't take much to trigger a full on torrent of tears when it came to a one year old. Babies had some pretty powerful windbags, despite their size. No doubt it would attract a horde like any car alarm could.

"Hey, Nick?"

There was a short pause before the gambler spoke up. "I'm listening, kid. What is it?"

"Umm, what're we gonna do 'bout water? We haven't had any fer a while, and I know little Georgia ain't either. I don' want her to get de-hy-drated, ya know?"

Nick noted how funny it was when the southerner elongated words he didn't use in his everyday vocabulary. "She's probably already 'de-hy-drated'. My guess is that she's been on her own for a couple of days at least."

"So should'n we find some water before goin' any further?"

The mechanic had a point. They were somewhat used to going without water for a day or two. The glue-like consistency of saliva that coated their mouths was a far off afterthought while trying to fight for their lives out here. However, a baby as young as Georgia wouldn't last long without the proper nourishment. Plus, they _needed _to keep her happy for their sakes.

"Fine," Nick growled and reached into the left side of his suit jacket to grab something from the inner pocket. He pulled out a small canister of liquid, or so Ellis thought with the sloshing sound it made inside. But the sleek silver canister itself seemed…

"Uhhh, I don' think babies can drink that stuff, Nick." The mechanic's face was one of humor and revulsion.

Oddly enough, Nick's face mirrored a similar expression. "It's _water, _you idiot." He twisted the cap off and shoved it underneath the kid's nose.

Ellis took a whiff and laughed, "Well, it doesn't smell like gasoline, but there's still something that ain't right about it…"

"That's because I got it from the river during one of our pit stops."

"Duuuude, I hope you didn't collect that from _down_stream!" The boy backed away, disgusted by the thought of stuff other than water swimming around in the canister.

Nick didn't reassure him. "We have to boil it first before drinking it. Who knows how many zombies have taken a dive in that river." He secured the nozzle and slipped the canister back into his jacket. "Just gotta find a safe house for tonight, hopefully one with a working stove."

"Heh. Fat chance, mah friend."

It hadn't been but ten minutes of more walking until the two _conscious_ survivors heard that deep-throated growl bouncing off the building walls from all directions.

Although it was needless to say, Ellis called it anyway. "Shit! I hear a Hunter!"

"It's been a while since we've put down one of those dirty dogs." Nick said with a subtle smirk. He almost welcomed the challenge that was about to present itself. He knew the Hunter had an acute sense of awareness, unlike the other special infected - a higher intelligence, if you will. They most likely bolted before the jets even had a chance to drop the first bomb. He couldn't say the same for zombies like the Boomers.

_'Those fat sacks of lard…'_

A tell-tale screech rang in their ears, meaning that the Hunter had locked onto its target and was ready to pounce.

"Oh fu-"

As soon as Nick turned his back, the feral infected leapt out of an alley way and pinned the con man to the asphalt with little to no trouble at all. It was _amazing _how strong these things were when most of then were lacking a few feet in height compared to the survivors.

The Hunter wasted no time in swiping at the man's suit, intending to do some serious damage to his shoulder blades whenever he reached them through the thick fabric, which would only take a few seconds considering how sharp the claws were. But, before the special infected could shred the blue undershirt, Ellis hacked it's head off with one clean swing. The Hunter head tumbled onto the ground next to Nick's face, who cringed at those hollow, bloodied eyes, quickly bucking the zombie's body off of his back before he lost anymore of his dignity. It was pointless to brush his suit of dirt and grime, but the gambler did it out of habit.

"Jesus… That fucker came outta nowhere." He straightened his suit lapels with a harsh tug.

"Better you than me, I reckon." Nick leered at the mechanic for his blatant comment. "I'm just _sayin' _that it's better for it ta' have jumped on _your _back than _my_ back because I got a baby strapped to mine! I don' mean no offense, man!" He held up his hands.

"Maybe we'd be better off if it did. The little imp would make quite a tasty snack for a Hunter."

"Don't joke around like that, Nick. It ain't funny."

The only thing _funny _was how much the con man _wasn't _joking.

"Tch. Let's just go before the whole damn pack shows up." Nick was too afraid to ask what the back of his jacket looked like right now. He'd already had one too many disappointments today.

Ellis was about to follow him until he spotted something shiny in the alley where the Hunter had been lying in wait. With no sign of other infected lurking within the shadows, the mechanic shuffled over and bent down to examine the object; a red metallic lighter. It didn't look like it was in too bad of shape either. Ellis picked it up and shook, pleased to hear the sound of lighter fluid inside.

'This'll definitely come in handy sooner or later,' he thought, pocketing the lighter and running to catch up with his companion.

The sky was already melting into jewel tones of orange and pink due to how the sun was reflecting off of the long billowing clouds. It'd been a while since anyone had seen such a collage of colors during dusk. Although the world seemed to stopped since the infection, it was clear that Mother Nature hadn't stopped for the world.

Nick and Ellis clung to that last thread of light before it would disappear behind the cityscape completely. It was imperative to find a temporary fortress before dark settled, or they would face the risk of blindly choosing one of the buildings to stay in, not knowing what dangers could be skulking about the premises. At some point, the survivors had drifted off the main street and ducked into various pathways to see if a safe house was tucked where it wouldn't be visible. After all, they couldn't get any more lost than they already were, but so far not even the usual spray-painted safe house symbol could be seen.

Nick was, for the most part, in a bad mood. Why they hadn't come across one of those big red doors yet was a mystery to him. It was always so easy when Coach and Rochelle were with them. The con man wasn't known for his sense of navigation, especially this far south, but even Ellis was having a hard time figuring out his lefts from his rights. The kid _did _say he'd only been to New Orleans once in his lifetime, so it's not like there was much for him to remember. Therefore, Nick was the leader in this little posse of theirs, and he wasn't about to relinquish control any time soon unless absolutely necessary.

Besides, the mechanic was too busy fiddling with the bundle of joy on his back. There was no way he could pay attention to _that _and where they were going in tandem. Ellis was a hyper-focused kind of guy; latching onto one idea or one course of action at a time. It came in handy when repairing cars, but babysitting during a zombie apocalypse was out of the question.

"Yo, overalls! Pick up the pace, will ya? We don't have much time left before nightfall."

"I'm hurryin' as fast as I can, Nick. Yew gotta realize that I'm haulin' an extra twenty pounds around with me, ya know," the boy chuckled in an attempt to help brighten the atmosphere. Nothing would work beyond this point, though.

"Well _haul _your _ass_ instead. I think I see something that might be the answer to our prayers."

Fortunately for Ellis, there were now only five minutes left before their bet over Georgia ended, but the whole thing seemed rather unimportant compared to their current predicament. Neither of them had brought it up yet, at least.

"Oh, thank GOD!" Nick cried out once he saw the neon orange markings on the outer walls of a jewelry store. "Finally!"

Ellis was just as ecstatic to see the familiar graffiti and walked a bit faster to match his comrade's jog. "Home sweet home! At least for tonight, it is." The mechanic glanced back at his tiny passenger. "Yew hear that Georgia? We're gonna be aright! Another day, anoth- oof!" He ran right into Nick's arm, which was stretched out to the side so that Ellis couldn't go any further. "What the heck, man? Why'dja- …..!"

Those piercing red eyes were hidden underneath a curtain of straw-like, platinum blonde hair, but the Witch was definitely aware of the survivors' presence nonetheless. She sat hunched over in front of the open doors of the jewelry store with her hands clasped against her wrinkled face. The crying was still the low wail that meant she hadn't felt threatened just yet, but any closer and the conman would start to upset her for sure.

Ellis had cut himself off as soon as he followed Nick's gaze to the decrepit woman. The two didn't need communication to know that they had to back off. Ever so carefully, the mechanic lifted one hefty work boot and set it gently behind him, doing the same with his other foot at an easy, unhurried pace. Nick followed suit after Ellis had moved a few feet away from him, increasing the grip on his axe but refraining from raising it. Any sign of hostility might provoke the Witch, as Coach had once learned the hard way when he kept his automatic rifle pointed at the creatures face while moving around her. She hadn't liked that one bit.

Although this was no time for a wise crack, Nick simply couldn't help himself. "Looks like her boyfriend didn't go to Jared's."

"What? Man, shut _up_!" Ellis didn't get the reference, but then again he never did when Nick was the one relaying them. He was just more concerned with keeping quiet until they were out of hearing range from the weeping infected.

Ellis had felt sympathy for Witches when he'd first encountered them. One could only imagine what kind of pain they were going through to be crying that much. What were they like in their past lives? Did they have any sorrow or regrets at the time, and is that why they turned into such melancholic beings? Or perhaps they _were_ happy back then and are simply mourning from the monsters they were forced to become? In fact, a lot of infected didn't seem to be very… thrilled with their new skins. Who _would_ be?

Nick narrowed his eyes when he heard muffled whimpering noises coming from where Ellis stood. Was the kid seriously crying?

"Are you seriously crying?" He allowed himself a short glance at the mechanic before returning his attention back to the Witch.

"That ain't me, man."

"Well, then who the fuck is-"

_Uuuueeehhhhh~_

Ellis twisted his neck to look back at the squirming infant who had awoken from her peaceful slumber. Little Georgia's lips were pressed into a gloomy frown and her nearly eyebrow-less forehead started digging into those darling blue eyes of hers. The boy would've laughed at her comical expression had they not been in such a precarious situation.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit..."

"Cursing at it isn't gonna make it shut up, Ellis," The con man said in a rigid whisper, his teeth ground tight against each other as he monitored the Witch's current mood. Apparently, she didn't enjoy having another drama queen try and outshine her, due to the way she was snarling at them.

Ellis quickly changed his "shits" turned to "shh's" while bouncing on his toes in an attempt to soothe her. He didn't dare dismiss his machete for the baby; one, he didn't have time to rock her back and forth like he would when their lives _weren't _hanging in the balance, and two, a baby didn't make an effective weapon. But the louder the Witch's wailing became, the more Georgia's cries increased (and vice versa.)

"Ellis, take her away from here before it-"

_UUAAAAAHHHHHH!_

The once haggard form spasmed to life as it screamed at the three survivors. Ellis' boots were kissing the ground with lightning speed before the Witch could even begin her chase. Once she had seen the source of the noise that had disturbed her attached to the boy's back, she locked her ruby eyes onto the target and sprinted towards her fleeing victims, claws extended and trailing behind her like a goddamn Wolverine-wannabe.

Nick tossed around a few swear words and backtracked while trying to figure out the best way to approach the Witch. If he got in her line of fire, no doubt he'd be shredded into parmesan. The distance between them was swiftly closing, so the con man acted upon the first thing that came to mind by swinging his axe into the right shin of her twiggy leg. It didn't lop off the appendage completely, but the damage done brought the infected to her knees with an agonizing howl. Unfortunately, the blow hadn't immobilized her permanently as Nick soon realized when she hastily scrambled forward to make minced meat out of her attacker. The injured leg was slowing her down considerably, but that didn't stop the woman from lashing out at Nick with those tapered talons of hers. The gambler was agile enough to dodge a couple swipes, which proved to make the Witch even more livid as the survivor drew further and further away from her.

Nick, however, once he had finally found his balance again, didn't take notice of the jutting fissure imbedded in the road behind him, which ended up being his downfall - literally. The con man's heel caught on the craggy rupture, making this the second time he'd ended up on the ground today. However, the threat that faced him proposed a death knell greater than the last.

The Witch's staggering form hobbled up to the survivor and didn't even pause before looming over her victim with claws at the ready. Her bad leg gave way and she collapsed to one knee, giving Nick a chance for possible escape, but instead of the rush of adrenaline he was expecting to feel, a sharp and unrelenting pain shot through his own leg. Four razor-like claws pierced his pant leg and burrowed into the flesh underneath, hooking into his calf muscle with no intent on letting go. The Witch released a labored grunt and used the leverage to drag herself closer to the survivor, causing Nick to cry out from the deep lacerations she was leaving in his skin. He swore he saw a devious twinkle in the Witch's eye as she watched him writhe.

An eye for an eye, or in this case, a leg for a leg.

Just as she was about to hoist herself up enough to add swiss cheese to the "Survivor Special" of parmesan and minced meat, a silver protrusion popped out from the confines of her abdomen. She immediately seized up and let out a dreadful shriek to the sky, flopping forward while still skewered on the blade into a lifeless bag of bones not a moment later. Ellis pressed his shoe to the Witch's back and shoved her off the machete, her body akin to a rag dolls. As soon as Nick saw the mechanic's signature hat appear from the top of the Witch's slumping figure, he breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall back for a spell. The burning pain in the con man's leg was a rude reminder of his new battle scars he had acquired during the tussle.

Ellis' voice was sweet on the ears after all of the ear-splitting squeals from the Witch. "Dude, Nick, er'yew awright?" The mechanic crouched down, frantically scanning his comrade for any carnage the infected might have done. His eyes fastened onto the crimson stain seeping through the fabric of his pants, the blood making splotchy patches similar to rorschach patterns. "Shit… that looks bad."

"Tch, yeah. Doesn't just _look _bad, believe me." The con man winced as he moved his leg into an upright position, rolling up the pant leg to assess the wound. Indeed, four angry red lines were carved into his calf, as if Freddy himself had put them there. Nick briefly thought about how the famous horror icon and a Witch would make a lovely pair before he heard Ellis suck in through his teeth.

_"Daaaang_…" The mechanic lowered his head in guilt. "M'sorry, man. I started runnin' from'er because I was so worried about Georgia here, and then when I realized she weren't chasin' me no more you were already flat on yer back and-"

"No, no, it's fine," the gambler interrupted. "Hoes before bros, or _however_ that saying goes. Can't quite remember." Those thin lips were pulled apart to show a glimpse of his pearly whites, but his eyes were _far_ from smiling. Even Ellis could tell that his fellow survivor was a bit sore at him for the whole fiasco.

The con man scowled from the searing pain that shot up through his muscle every time he tensed up. "Speaking of which, where is the little… imp…" He decided to stick with that pet name instead of all the other colorful things he could call the baby right now. It was, after all, her fault that the Witch had attacked them in the first place.

"She's right here, safe 'n' sound." He turned so that Nick could see her rosy face peering at him from her sling. Her eyes were still puffy from crying, but at least she had stopped for the moment. She wasn't even aware of what destruction she could have wrought upon them with her incessant wailing, those big blinking eyes oblivious to the world. Transparent snot had made a trail down one nostril from all of the pressure built up during her breakdown.

He was _not _wiping that up.

Nick gave the baby a half-hearted sneer before the mechanic turned back around to examine the ugly-looking wound. "We need to get yew patched up, mister." That much was certain.

"Well, that can wait until we get in the safe house. I don't want to draw anymore attention to ourselves than we already have, no thanks to that thing on your back." Nick stood up a little too quickly and almost fell back over if the mechanic hadn't been there to assist him. It hurt like a bitch to walk, but the con man would make do until they reached the jewelry store where a large red, metal door would be waiting with their names on it.

Ellis didn't want to piss the man off by scolding him for slandering the baby, so instead opted to silently help his comrade onto his feet and let part of the man's weight rest against his wide shoulders.

If Nick hadn't been focusing on keeping pressure off of his bad leg, he would've reveled in the proximity he was sharing with the boy, but it didn't stop him from squeezing the space between the mechanic's shoulder and neck, enjoying how firm the muscle was. In turn, he felt the grip under his armpit tighten until five worried fingers clamped around part of his left rib cage.

The con man didn't need to see Ellis' face to know how bad he felt about the Witch incident. While Nick often played the blame game, it wasn't like it was the boy's fault entirely. And, he hated to admit it, but Georgia didn't need to take the brunt of the blame either. Shit happens, plain and simple. It was every man for himself when it came to the zombie infested apocalypse, or at least that was motto he had adopted at the very beginning of this shit storm. He knew from the moment they took a freaking _baby _with them that it wasn't going to make their lives any easier. Not much they could do about it, though. Despite the cruel illusion he concocted of the baby-abandoning con man with a heart of ice, Nick wasn't such a bastard as to turn the little imp into a dumpster-baby. The bet he and the mechanic had made was more of a fun distraction for them until they could reunite with their other two comrades, not like he'd tell this to Ellis.

Nick felt a light touch on the arm he had slung around his companion's back. He looked to see that little Georgia had grabbed onto his jacket sleeve with mild curiosity, grasping the fabric between her tiny fingers and trying to shift it around in stiff, unpracticed movements.

It was fucking endearing.

Or at least that's what Nick thought snidely to himself as they made their way into the back room of the jewelry store where a good night's rest beckoned them.

**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**

_To be continued…_

_**AN:** My inspiration for this chapter was a bit low in the beginning, and I might've thrown a few things in haphazardly (like the Hunter, although the lighter Ellis found b/c of the attack was a necessary asset), but the creative juices started flowing during the last half at least. I apologize if this chapter seems a little unbalanced, lol._

_Also, I haven't proof read this yet, so please ignore spelling/grammar mistakes._

_Thank you for reading!_


	4. Part 4

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

Enjoy~!

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_**Part 4**_

_Gguuuhhbblll~_

Nick watched as little Georgia rocked back and forth on the floor exuberantly, her legs slightly bent in front of her and arms poised outward as if she were about to pounce on something. Those baby blues were wide with wonder at nothing in particular as she cooed and made content gurgling sounds.

The con man's face remained as stoic as it had been when they first entered the safe room. It was a fairly large space for a back room of a jewelry store, filled with filing cabinets containing information regarding the shop's various clients and their orders. Two large white tables were situated near the back for jewelry repair, a few stainless steel watches of local brand strewn about the shiny plastic surface along with their tiny parts. Some cubbies used to hold individual customer's jewelry were pushed against the wall opposite the safe room door in a haphazard manner, as if they didn't originally belong there. Most likely, another door was behind all of the clutter, perhaps one that led outside. If anything, that would be where delivers would come in.

The thing that inevitably caught Nick's eye once they examined the room was another large metal door besides the safe room entryway. It was like a large locker built in to the wall with a keypad placed at the right of it, some of the numbers a bit worn from being pressed so much.

Your standard jewelry store safe. It was meant for those particularly pricey rocks that the owner couldn't afford to lose. Nick ignored the itchy feeling in his hands for now and kept his attention on his injured leg as well as the baby.

"What're _you _so happy about?" He asked Georgia begrudgingly.

She looked at him for a second, intrigued by the deep rumbling voice, but went back to checking out her surroundings again when nothing else happened.

"You think this is funny?" he gestured to the gashes in his calf. "_You're _the cause of this, you know." Georgia let out a high gleeful squeal while waving her arms up and down. How she could be so content while Nick's leg was gushing blood in front of her, he did not know. "Hey, hey! Next time you pull something like that, I'm letting her have you." The con man jabbed a finger at the infant's chest, half mocking, half not. Georgia instantly grabbed hold of it and studied the larger appendage with both hands.

Nick's eyebrows twitched when he saw the innocent action. He felt his chest tighten for a moment before willing the feeling away and retrieving his finger before the baby decided she wanted to take a bite out of it (not that it would've hurt if she did since her teeth hadn't grown in.)

"Yeah, well… don't think acting all cute is gonna score you brownie points, 'cuz it ain't. I don't go for those kind of girls." He coughed once and looked back at the bathroom door where Ellis had gone.

The mechanic had saddled him with a bit of babysitting duty while he went to the bathroom to soak the towel Nick had kept from the apartment with warm water, part of his prep to clean the con man's "battle scar", or so he liked to call it. The only med kit they found had been lying underneath one of the tables, so that's what they'd be using to dress the wound. Nick helped move the process along by getting everything they'd need out of the red pouch and spreading it out on the floor next to him; gauze, rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, antibacterial cream, butterfly bandages, and a clasp to hold the gauze in place.

Georgia picked up one of the cotton balls and slowly brought it to her mouth. Nick took the white fluff from her hands. "Don't eat that," was his simple command, throwing it back in the pile. The baby didn't mind, and went on to touch some of the other supplies which were too big for her to swallow.

Ellis appeared a couple seconds afterwards with the damp cloth and a grim smile. Nick had told the mechanic twice not to dwell on the Witch incident, and that next time he'll owe him something out of a snack machine to make up for it (even though they would usually brake the glass and take whatever they damn well please), but Ellis still felt rather bad for their run in with the bitch, seeing as a portion of the blame fell unto him.

The boy squatted down to his partner's level and made himself as comfortable as he could on the cold tile floor. "Sorry fer takin' so long. There was some blood still left on it from that knife yew were cleanin' earlier. Had to wash it out." The con man had completely forgotten about the "suicide knife" he had strapped to his thigh at the apartments. He inwardly cursed for not having the sense to use it on that Witch. He'd also have to fetch the axe he left outside the jewelry store when he toppled over that crack in the road.

Ellis' eyes fell on those nasty tears in the gambler's skin and he couldn't help but bite the bottom of his lip. "I'll wipe up all the blood and see if anythin' needs stitchin' first." The boy gently pressed the warm towel to Nick's calf and proceeded to work around the wound.

There were a few hisses on the con man's part, but nothing a little teeth clenching and mild distractions couldn't fix. Hell, he was distracted already by the way Ellis would worry that full lower lip of his with his front teeth and one incisor. He was obviously concentrating on making this ordeal as painless as possible, however successful he was being, and it made Nick wonder if he did this every time he was hyper focused on a task that required a certain amount of prudence from his rough mechanic's hands. Then again, a mechanic was always very vigilant when handling other people's cars as well as their own; the way they replaced parts, how something was tweaked, what needed to be tightened where and how much. Perhaps having careful hands was a trademark of his, despite the twenty-three year old's reckless actions and dimwittedness on some occasions.

Nick was jolted out of his pondering when he felt the familiar white hot bite of alcohol on his cuts. No amount of gentleness could keep _that_ from hurting, but it was semi-satisfying to see the bubbling substance eat away at any lingering bacteria that might've caused potential infection. Ellis made sure every area of his wound was covered with the alcohol before padding it drying with another cotton ball and applying the antibacterial cream, making sure to leave some dry spots so that the butterfly bandages could catch on his skin. Thankfully, no one would be needing stitches this day.

The gauze was the last step, and Ellis did a pretty good job of wrapping the injured leg evenly and tightly, but not so much as to cut off blood circulation. Once the clasp was in place, he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

"All done! How's it feel?"

Nick moved his leg back and forth experimentally, flexing his calf muscle a few times to make sure the gauze wouldn't come undone. The pain was still present, but the con man had felt worse in his lifetime. This was a walk in the park compared to some of his past encounters with a well known friend of his called "trouble".

"Not bad, kid. I think I'll actually live," he teased.

Ellis was relieved that the gambler was in a moderate enough mood to jest. "Good. I've had a lotta practice doin' stuff like this fer my buddy, Keith. One time, when we built a homemade bonfire in his backyard, he used an entire can of gasoline to get the fire goin'. Well, as you can imagine… third degree burns over ninety-five percent of his body! I had to wrap him up like a mummy that day."

"Why didn't you just take him to the hospital like any normal person would?" Nick didn't often engage in one of the boy's stories, but it was different now that they were in a safe room and _not_ on the lookout for zombies 24/7.

"Well, he didn' want his folks to find out what he gone did, see? So he pretended to be dressed as a mummy the whole week since it was durin' Halloween an' all. That's what made it so funny, too." The mechanic let out a hearty chuckle.

Nick snorted and shook his head. Somehow he highly doubted that Keith would have his rugged good looks, let alone recover within a _week_, after having third degree burns over ninety-five percent of your body, but Ellis was a man who got off on story telling that made every detail sound as juicy as possible, so why spoil his fun?

While the mechanic was putting away all med kit supplies, Nick heaved himself up off the ground with a grunt and patted the back of his pants to shake off any accumulated dirt. He walked to one side of the room and back to see how his leg faired under pressure, grateful that the pain was less than before. Although, it was kind of disappointing that his new battle scars would be hidden underneath his pant leg. They were pretty cool looking.

"Well, I guess we're holin' it up in here tonight," Ellis said, stating the obvious.

"Yup. Cozy little pad, isn't it?" Sarcasm was evident in Nick's voice.

"Aw, it could be worse. At least they got furniture and a workin' bathroom."

The con man let out a joyless "hallelujah" to the fact that they had running water. You learned to appreciate such small commodities like food and water after days of alternating between going with and without them.

"Is there a working shower?"

"No shower to begin with."

"Of course."

"You can probably use this here rag to wipe yerself down if ya want." He held out the still damp towel to Nick, now covered in fresh blood.

"Yeah. No thanks."

Georgia made a wet noise and let a bit of spit dribble down her chin.

"Besides, I think she needs it more than me." The gambler's eyebrows knitted together while staring down at the jovial infant.

"Oh, right!" Ellis set the towel down and swooped Georgia up and onto one of the tables. "Nick, what're the chances of us finally gettin' some water fer this trooper?"

"Easier now than it would've been since we have running water and won't have to boil the bacteria out." He took out his silver canister and headed toward the bathroom. "I'll go dump this shit out and fill it up with water from the sink. You watch stinky drool-face."

"Hey, that ain't a very nice thing to say to a baby!"

"I wasn't talking about her, slick," Nick retorted before closing the bathroom door behind him, wanting a bit of privacy to take care of his own business as well.

Ellis didn't know whether to be offended or amused by his companion's statement, but didn't have much time to think due to a wretched odor coming off of the child below him.

"Lord almighty! Smells like yew need another diaper change, missy. All that excitement and ya done near shi- I mean, crapped yer pants, ha ha!" Not like the use of that word was any better, but he figured it'd be best to set a good example at this point in the baby's life rather than later, on account of how fast they picked up on stuff. Hell, the only reason he had a "comprehension of every swear word in the English language", or so Nick said, was because the boy's parents were none too forbearing when it came to their colorful language palette. It was kind of unfair, though, whenever _he_ would use such vocabulary and end up getting paddled by his mother for it.

Oh, what memories…

His mom was never cruel in her punishments, and her blows with the paddle didn't even hurt half of the time, but the mere fact that he had made her upset at him was enough reason to start bawling. Once the tears came, it was difficult for his mom to stay mad for too long. She was a sweet woman down to the soles of her shoes, which was more than he could say for his dad.

Their father left when Ellis turned seven. He couldn't quite remember what his pa looked like or how he acted around the family, but the blonde, big-boobed, dolled up tramp he brought home one night while mom was at work was one thing he'd _never _forget. The woman was practically drowning in her own makeup! Ellis didn't know that what his pa and that lady were doing was a bad thing until his mother came home early one night to find them humping like dogs in their bed. Of course, Ellis just thought they were wrestling since that's the excuse his parents came up with during those rare times he'd intrude on their _activities_. The boy didn't grasp the whole concept of an "affair" until he was around his teenage years when his mom finally told him what had really happened back then.

Needless to say, it was barely even a day before dad was booted out of the house along with his hussy girlfriend, leaving poor ol' ma to raise their child all on her own. So, while Elli's pa might not have been mean or abusive to his family, he sure as hell didn't give a damn about'em.

Years passed, and then the apocalypse came. As soon as the infection reached their city, Ellis hotfooted it from his auto shop back to the house to get his mom and skedaddle out of there in his truck faster than a jack rabbit during hunting season. He had been plagued with worry when he couldn't find her at first, but when he checked the fridge where she would usually leave little notes for him, a pink sticky note in his mother's curly handwriting claimed that she had been picked up by her brother and his family for early evacuation. Apparently, there was so much traffic blocking the road into town that they couldn't possibly force their way through the fray in order to reach him. The mechanic couldn't blame them since there had been so much pandaemonium going on that day. His mother left him the name and address of their safe haven so that he could join them as soon as possible (the phone lines had been damaged during the mayhem so it was no wonder she hadn't called him first.)

After receiving that bit of information, Ellis proceeded to check on all of his friend's houses and see if everyone was alright before going to the evac station himself. But, by the time he had finished his good samaritan work and was ready to book it out of Savannah, the zombies had already taken over, leaving Ellis to become the "badass zombie-killing machine" he was now.

Unfortunately, the station his family was transported to had been overrun not too long after that, but it seems they were able to get a few clusters of people out before the infection hit them full on. The boy could only hope that his dear mother had been among those remaining survivors. If pure luck couldn't do the trick, then his daily fervent praying certainly would.

The stony stare that Ellis was directing at the table was soon broken once he heard little Georgia's whimpering. He had paused in his changing duties when he started zoning out, and the last thing he had to do was give her a fresh diaper. She probably didn't enjoy the cold air on her rump.

"Oh! Sorry, girl. Ol' Ellis was takin' a trip back in time for a minute there." He laughed sheepishly and finished securing the diaper around her waist. "All done! Muuuuch, much better now." He hopped up on the table since all chairs were part of the man-made barricade on the other side of the room, and set Georgia in his lap on one knee. The feeling gave him an idea.

"My mom used to do this with me when I was yer age. I don' know if yer gonna like it as much as I did, but I guess it don't hurt to try?" Ellis situated his hands underneath Georgia's armpits and scooted her up a little higher on his thigh. "Ready?"

The baby just looked around in response, marveling at the new height she was at.

"Alright. Here comes the pony… pacey, pacey, pacey, pacey..." Ellis started shaking the leg Georgia was occupying in short, quick intervals. She looked like one of those Tickel-Me-Elmo toys that vibrated when they laughed. The point of this game was to mimic the walk of whatever horse Ellis pretended to be while the baby "rode" it. "Aaaand here comes the milk man… trot, trot, trot, trot…" For this exercise, he would lift his leg a bit higher and bring it down with a thunk every second or so to mimic the feel of a trotting horse. Georgia chose this time to open her mouth and let out a curious "ahhhhhh", her voice catching every time Ellis brought his leg down. "And here comes the bucking bronco! Ahhh~!" This action was similar to the trotting one, but faster and more wild. The baby seemed to like it though when she let out a high cheerful cry.

The mechanic guffawed. "I _knew _you'd like that! Ha ha ha!"

"Sheesh, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying it more than the baby."

Ellis looked up to find Nick leaning against the bathroom doorframe with a cheshire cat smile plastered onto his face. The boy felt himself swoon a bit on the inside, for what reason he did not know, and smiled back at his partner. "Well, the way I see it is that just because she's livin' in a zombie apocalypse don't mean she can't still have fun like most babies can."

"True, that." The con man sauntered over, carrying the canister he filled with clean water, and sat on the table next to Ellis. "Here. She's probably tired after all that barebacking." Ellis reprimanded him with a look for his sexual innuendo and nabbed the canister out of his hands. He unscrewed the cap and slowly brought the water to Georgia's petal pink lips. She went still after realizing that she was being given something to drink and accepted the liquid for a few beats until she pulled away. Nick had checked to make sure the water wasn't too cold for her, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing it anyway, choosing to let some of the water gush from her mouth instead.

"Why's she doin' that? Does it taste funny?" Ellis used the front of her footie pajamas to wipe her wet chin.

"Well, it's not exactly mountain valley spring water, if that's what you were expecting. We're just gonna have to make due." The con man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

They tried giving her another swig of the stuff, but she ended up rejecting most of it.

"Oh, come on, ya little imp. Tap water isn't all that bad."

"Maybe she ain't used to drinkin' water yet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, yer supposed to start introducin' water to babies when they get to be around six months old, but her mom might not've done that yet and just kept feedin' her milk instead."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "And _how _would you know all this?"

"I had to do my fair share of readin' on these things when takin' care of my mama's friend's kids, and one of'em was a baby, remember? She's the one who made me do it, actually, 'cuz she didn' want me screwin' anythin' up, ya know? Heh heh."

Nick recalled the mechanic telling him this before.

"Great. So now what do we do? There's no way we're gonna find unspoiled milk lying in a refrigerator somewhere."

Ellis shrugged. "We're just gonna have to keep giving her this until she's used to it. Ain't no way around it." He made sure Georgia got down at least three more gulps before handing the container back to Nick and burping her a second time that day. "Awright, girl. Let's find yew a place to settle down fer the night, shall we?" He hoisted her up on his hip, although she didn't exactly stay put since he didn't have the curves women had to shelf a baby there.

There wasn't much in the way of soft things in the back room of a jewelry store, but it was nothing Ellis couldn't remedy. He eyed the bathroom for a second and made his way back to where Nick was sitting.

"Hold her for a bit. I'm gonna make her a new crib."

Ellis caught his fellow survivor unprepared as he plunked the child into his arms. Nick fumbled with getting her into a normal position, too flabbergasted to refuse the sudden gift.

"Wait, _make _her a crib? Ellis, you- Ellis!" He saw the mechanic slide into the bathroom and released a long sigh. Green locked onto blue as the man and baby stared each other down for what felt like minutes. There was no expression on Georgia, which prompted Nick to show off his own poker face. It was getting hard to hold that stare, truthfully, so the con man blew a puff of air into the baby's eyes. As soon as she blinked, the con man snickered triumphantly.

"Heh. I win."

The next thing he knew, Ellis was tromping out of the bathroom with a cloud of toilet paper gathered in his arms, a few strands trailing behind him. It looked like he had unraveled the entire roll, or whatever was left on the spool.

"Is this really the time to go teepee someone's house, overalls?"

"It's for her bed." The mechanic responded simply.

"Ah, I see."

Ellis laid the toilet paper down between two of the filing cabinets and formed it into a fluffy nest. He also retrieved the cotton ball bag from the med kit and used it as a substitute for a pillow. That, along with the blanket they had wrapped her in at the apartments, would make her the snuggest bug in a rug this side of the apocalypse.

"Not too bad, if I do say so myself." He stood and headed towards the tables. "Okay, Georgia. Yer sleepin' chamber awaits." He grinned and lifted the infant from Nick's hands. The con man had been holding her under the arm pits and letting her feet touch his thighs the entire time, as if he didn't know what to do with the baby. Ellis just chocked it up to the fact that his comrade wasn't a very touchy-feely kind of guy.

"There we go… nice 'n' comfy!" As if on cue, Georgia yawned once her head touched the cotton ball-filled pillow. The mechanic made sure to tuck the blanket snugly around her form and pushed her back into the space a little more just in case an infected were to somehow break in and see her as a quick snack. "You'll be safe with me and Nick around. Don'tchu worry none, darlin'." He assured the drowsy infant with a curt nod. As her eyes were fluttering closed, the boy stood quietly and went back over to the tables where Nick was still perched, joining him.

They stared at the baby for a while, both a bit relaxed now that their topsy turvy day had finally come to an end, that is until morning. But it was "adult time" now, or at least that's what Nick's current thoughts were. Now if only his companion _acted _like a twenty-three year old besides just looking like one. Although, Ellis had looked pretty grown-up while handling the munchkin. He was a natural with kids, which didn't surprise Nick in the least, and it was kind of… sexy, at times. If the guy ever became a dad, he'd definitely be on the con man's list of DILF's (not that he had fucked any dads before. So far, it'd only been women in that category.)

"I don't know how you do it." Nick said out of the blue.

"Do what?"

"That." He gestured sloppily to the sleeping infant across the way.

"… You mean… with Georgia? Well, like I said, I had a bit of trainin' as a teenager, ya know?"

"Yeah, but there's a difference between good babysitting and bad babysitting. You're doing one hell of a job considering the circumstances, sport."

"Oh. Erm… thank yew, I guess." The boy chuckled to himself, bashful from the praise. "I was afraid that everythin' would be goin' downhill after we took her along." Nick couldn't have agreed more. "… But it weren't so bad once I got back into the swing of things."

"Don't worry about it. You're doing a better job than I ever would." The con man leaned back on the table with his hands folded behind his head. The dingy off-white of his suit was a sharp contrast between the snow white surface beneath him, but he was far from caring at this point.

"Aw, I'm sure you'd make a great daddy, Nick." The mechanic playfully hit his partner's foot with his own while twisting around to look at his laid back demeanor.

"Ha! Try telling that to all the people I've dated." The gambler closed his eyes against the harsh overhead lights, letting the tension from today melt away from his aching muscles. He remembered back to a couple moments when the women he was "seeing" at the time banged on his door and told him that they were carrying his unborn child. Not within the same day, of course, but it's not like this issue didn't happen very often. Fortunately, as a con artist himself, Nick could tell when something was being faked or not, especially when one of the girls brought in that phony pregnancy test she had turned "blue" with food coloring. Still, he was lucky to have dodged those baby bullets, because one day his worst fears might've actually come true.

Ellis decided to follow Nick's lead and lie back to give his body a break. "You dated a lot?"

"If by 'dated' you mean took a girl out for food and fucking, then yeah. Otherwise, I don't do long term relationships. Too much hassle."

"Is that because of… what you did before all this?"

It was a perfectly innocent question to which Nick had no problem answering, "Maybe. Some of it was. It's not like I went around raping and pillaging, like you, Coach and Rochelle make it out to be. I had a stable job, it just wasn't your typical corner office job, or cubicle office for that matter. And yeah, it may not have been entirely _legal, _but hey, you got a thousand kids all over the world illegally downloading music off the internet for free. What makes them any different than me?"

Ellis could think of a lot of differences between the two, but chose not to voice them. "Well, I reckon none of it matters now that we're in a zombie o-paco-lypse." He paused before resuming his thoughts. "It's mind blowin', man. What we did in the past don't really matter much now. The fact that I worked at an auto shop, and Rochelle's a reporter, and Coach is a… well, coach, and yew were whatever yew were… We're all fightin' for the same cause an' all, so… it's kinda cool, ya know?"

"Yeah. I hear ya." Nick was getting groggy, so he only paid attention to half of what the boy said just then. He had a point, though. They weren't labeled by their occupations anymore. They were simply just survivors; trying desperately to find solace in a world of blood, violence, death, and flesh-eating zombies. Their common goal is what kept the group together, which was one of the reasons why they needed to get back to their other team mates as soon as possible.

Tomorrow, they would scale any amount of destruction that got in their way, whether it be a mountain of debris or an army of goddamn Tanks.

"Hey Nick? You still awake?" Ellis turned his head towards the con man, his face inches away.

"Yes, but I'm trying_ not _to be." He didn't think the kid would take the hint, but it didn't hurt to try.

"Thanks."

"For…?"

"… For lettin' Georgia stay with us."

Nick had almost forgotten about their bet, not that it was valid anymore since he had silently given into the thought of keeping the baby with them until they found someone who could take care of her.

"Mm." It was the best "no problem" he could muster at the moment.

"You're a good man, Nick."

This sentiment made the con man open his eyes and direct those grassy greens at his companion's, whose own blue one's were drilling straight back into his.

This was the part where Fernando would lean into his lover's lips, whisper sweet nothings in a husky voice, and snog the shit out of'em until the break of dawn. Nick, however, was _no _Fernando, although the idea was rather pleasant when it came to Ellis.

"Glad there's at least _one _person here who thinks so."

And with that, the two survivors ended their late night conversation and settled down for a long, uncomfortable sleep inside the jewelry store safe room.

No doubt their backs would be feeling it tomorrow morning.

**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**

_To be continued…_

_**AN:**_Soooo a bit of Ellis background in this part as well as some Nick past life while Georgia's just being her ol' drooly self. :) No hardcore Nellis going on right now b/c I'm trying to take my time with this story, like I've stated before. Believe me, and I'm sure a lot of you are aware of this, that those particularly smutty scenes are 10x better when you've created a nice, detailed, well developed plot line and characters. ;)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. Part 5

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy!_

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_**Part 5**_

Ellis calmly walked down a dingy, narrow alleyway, weaponless and alone. But, for some reason, he wasn't as scared as one would possibly feel being so vulnerable in city ruled by blood-thirsty, arm-gnawing zombies. In fact, Ellis had the distinct feeling that there weren't any zombies within a twenty mile radius of him, as if they all just… vanished. It was a very surreal situation the mechanic had found himself in.

As he traveled farther down the alleyway, twisting and turning around more corners than there _should_have been, he came to a path that had another alley adjacent to in, forming a T-shape. He could choose to keep going straight ahead, or to his left where light was flooding the walls of the adjacent passageway. Since the latter seemed like some sort of exit out of this dark and foreboding maze, the boy decided to go that way, right through a bright white haze that clung to the air like morning dew.

As Ellis headed towards the mouth of the alley, he noticed a fuzzy gray form not but a yard away. Once he got closer to the figure it was clear that the thing was moving slightly. A zombie? A person? Either way, Ellis was determined to find out. But, as he started to approach the figure, a loud, piercing screech rang throughout the alley seeming to come from nowhere. The boy slapped his hands over his ears to block out the sound, but it wasn't helping in the least. His eyes darted around to see if a Witch was making that noise and had it's sights set on him for the kill, but he was alone. Even the figure from before had disappeared. Suddenly, the entire city was being swallowed up by darkness, as if the sun was being extinguished.

But the wailing still remained. Louder and louder and louder it grew, like an alarm that wouldn't turn off. Which, in fact, was exactly what had happened.

The mechanic's eyes flew open to see a stark, dust-colored ceiling with fluorescent lights beaming back at him. He squinted a bit to block out some of the light and sat up to try and recall his current surroundings.

The Witch, Nick's leg, jewelry store, safe house, Georgia…

He turned to see the baby still nestled between the filing cabinets where he had laid her in the make-shift toilet paper bed, but she was obviously awake now and crying her eyes out. Who wouldn't with that alarm going off?

Wait, alarm? Why was it going off in the first place?

In a split second, he heard someone call his name from behind.

"Ellis!"

The boy looked to see the con man gathering up their belongings faster than he'd ever seen him move in the wee hours of the morning. Was it morning?

"Nick? What're-"

"No time! We need to get outta here before the entire city wakes up." He picked up the baby bag and threw it into Ellis' lap.

"Why is the alarm goin' off?" The boy yelled over the constant screeching while going to retrieve Georgia.

Before he got an answer, he heard a shot ring out from the pistol Nick had used to blow a zombie's brains out behind the bars of the safe room door. They could hear a few more coming for them from the distance. "We have to go _now!_Come on!" He lifted the safety bar off the door, tossing it to the tile floor, and kicked the door open with his foot, smacking one of the infected right in the face.

Ellis nearly tripped over his baggy pant legs while trying to heft the baby bag onto his shoulder and rotate Georgia snug in her sling onto his back, albeit still crying. Once out the door, he readied his machete for the onslaught of zombies they'd be facing throughout their escape. Nick had jumped over the cashier's counter and started popping off infected one by one with his killer aim. There were only about four or five of the things that would come running towards them, but it'd soon turn to forty or fifty if they didn't pick up the pace. That chorus of wails was getting closer by the second.

Ellis stayed behind the glass cases until the store had been cleared of the first wave of zombies, joining Nick in the middle of the room when he was prepared to make a break for it.

"Ready?" the con man asked, receiving a quick nod from his comrade. "Alright. Let's blow this joint." The two survivors sprinted towards the exit of the jewelry store, not bothering to tip toe over the shards of glass left over from broken cases. Ten more feet would've given them the freedom they desired if it hadn't been for the Spitter that decided at that exact moment to maker her appearance around the corner. Ellis had stopped in time, but Nick slipped on some of the glass strewn about the floor and landed on his side. The Spitter's beady eyes locked onto the fallen survivor and she wasted no time in hocking up a rather generous green luge, aiming it directly at her victim. Nick had scrambled to his feet before the glowing wad of acid could make contact with his shoes, putting a good amount of distance between him and the deformed infected. He watched as the sizzling spit ate away at the precious gems and diamond rings that had been thrown in with the glass shards, as if they were made of paper.

Nick snorted. "Huh. I always thought diamonds were a girl's best friend?"

It'd take a minute or two for the Spitter to concoct another acid attack, so in the meantime Ellis had ducked back into the safe room, grabbed one of the chairs against the wall, and made his way towards the Spitter with the chair tightly clenched in his hands. She didn't notice the boy until it was too late, as he brought the sturdy metal object down on her head like in one of those cheesy wrestling matches.

"WHOO man! I've _always_wanted to do that," he cheered.

Nick just shrugged and figured that as long as it was effective, who cares how they get the job done?

"Hey, Nick! Did yew see that right there? Was I awesome, or what?"

"Yeah, yeah, don't get too full of yourse-" The con man stopped himself as he saw the drooling, long-necked zombie rise up from behind the kid, her throat already bulging with the arrival of another spit wad. "Ellis, duck!"

The mechanic automatically did as he was told once he heard the muffled gurgling from behind him, allowing Nick to unload a few bullets into the Spitter's flabby gullet. It didn't take much for her to flop over dead with an anguished squeal, leaving a hot bed of acid in her wake. Ellis jumped out of the way of the burning goo, making sure none of it had splashed onto his clothing in the process.

"Shit! I thought I'd taken care of yew." He huffed, glancing back at the baby strapped to his back. "Sorry, baby girl. That probably wudn't a very perty sight to see first thing in the mornin'," he chuckled. Georgia's crying was reduced to small hiccups and sniffles now, probably shocked into silence after having seen the grotesque form of the Spitter.

"Get it together, overalls," Nick said as he waited for the acid to dissipate so they could exit the jewelry store. "Your bundle of joy would've been a fried chicken nugget if I hadn't spotted that bitch in time."

"Sorry, man. Guess I'm still kinda tired. Hey, how the heck did that alarm go off anyway? Yew'd think with how beat up this place is that somethin' like that woulda' already went off when all the raiders came and took most everythin'."

Nick cocked his gun, pausing to look it over for a few drawn out seconds, and finally made eye contact with the boy. He opened his mouth to answer the simple question, but was interrupted by multiple howls cascading off the walls of surrounding buildings. The two stepped outside to pin point where the zombies were coming from and saw a few lumbering figures charging towards their location from all directions but their right, the rest of the hoard trailing close behind.

"This way!"

Ellis followed the con man down the empty street at breakneck speed. With just the two of them, a machete, and a small handgun, there was no way they could take on that entire mess of zombies hell-bent on tearing them limb from limb.

Georgia stared blankly at the mass of infected chasing after them. She didn't quite know what to make of the situation, but the bouncing up and down part was kind of fun, and she let out a merry squawk in response.

A couple stray zombies tumbled out of alley ways and random shops as the survivors ran by, which Nick and Ellis had no problem in dealing with quickly and effortlessly, but they couldn't keep up this game of cat and mouse forever.

"Nick! What're we gonna do?" the mechanic asked between labored breaths.

"Give me a sec!" Nick looked around for some sort of temporary fortress, but who knew where and when they'd find another safe house? The other buildings had zombies trickling out of them, which meant there were even more inside. The possibility of salvation seemed rather slim at that point, and it looked like the only thing they could do was turn around and risk fighting off the hoard with just the two of them. It was all so bitter-sweet to have come this far and end up dying in such a mundane way…

"There!"

The mechanic pointed to a fire escape he had spotted in an alley between two buildings. Thankfully, the ladder was already lowered, so Nick steered them in that direction.

"Works for me," he yelled.

Ellis was the first to climb up the ladder and onto the rusty metal scaffolding, the gambler following soon after. They were able to make it up three flights of stairs when they felt the structure swaying from beneath them. The rest of the infected had started trying to climb up as well, clambering over each other like cockroaches on a twinkle.

"Keep going, keep going!" Nick pushed Ellis from behind and brought their focus back to escaping before the zombies caught up. The fire escape happened to reach the roof of this building, giving the survivors some time to comb the area and make sure nothing had been waiting for them.

Nick then peered over the fire escape and directed his pistol at the approaching infected, taking care of the ones he had a good shot at. They were all coming at them in a relatively concentrated line now, so it was easier to tap them off. While the con man did some long-range shooting, Ellis busied himself with the zombies that had scaled their way to his level and sliced them up with his machete. Things were looking hopeful until one of the zombies surprised the boy by having climbed up on the outside of the fire escape and grabbing a handful of his Bull Shifters t-shirt.

"Agh! Get off'a me!" He felt himself lurch forward, one hand latching onto the roof's edge to keep from going overboard. One slip up and he and Georgia would've become nothing but pancakes on the asphalt.

Noticing his struggle, Nick shoved the barrel of his gun into the zombie's temple and pulled the trigger, blood splattering everywhere and leaving a gaping hole in the once beautiful girl's blonde head. She took an unceremonious dive into the concrete below.

'Dammit it! There's too many of them. I'm gonna run out of bullets before we can finish off half of them,' Nick thought. He was about to admit to himself how thoroughly screwed they were at this point, until he saw a familiar red object lying a few feet away from him. An idea sparked inside his head as he lunged at said object.

Ellis watched helplessly as a fresh hoard climbed their way up the fire escape, too many for him to count. He was about to ask Nick about a plan B when the con man suddenly appeared by his side, lifting one leg onto the roof's edge, and poured an entire can of gasoline onto the infected below. Some of it hit the wall of the building as well as the alley floor, but a majority had drenched those zombie bastards from head to toe. Nick cast the empty gas can aside when it had been drained down to the last drop.

"Okay. Now, do we have anything to light them with?"

The mechanic wanted to laugh at the fact that Nick had done that without even thinking about how they'd start the fire in the first place. Luckily, his companion had him covered.

"Here, I found me a lighter after that Hunter attacked us none too long ago." Ellis fished the red metallic lighter out of his pocket, but was startled into dropping it when an infected reared its ugly face up from the ledge of the building. He made quick work of the intruder by chopping of its head, yet the lighter was forever lost six floors beneath them. "Well, I _had_me a lighter…"

"Goddammit," Nick ground out, rubbing his brow due to an oncoming headache. "Alright, stand back," he ordered, which the mechanic promptly obeyed. Nick lifted his pistol and shot three times at the railing of the fire escape that was dribbling with gasoline before a spark caught fire to the whole thing. The blaze traveled downward, lighting up every zombie it came in contact with, until it reached the ground where it would roast the rest of the hoard in the confines of the alleyway. Nick and Ellis shielded their faces from the intense heat and backed up to give themselves some relief. The fire went on for another few minutes until a lack of fuel choked the remaining flames and completely died out.

When the pained howls and groans had finally ceased, the two survivors carefully made their way to the ledge and admired the destruction they had wrought. Fifty grilled zombie corpses, extra crispy.

"Niiiiice." Ellis smirked with satisfaction.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Nick responded, nodding his head at the amount of damage they caused. "But, boy, if that wasn't by the skin of our teeth, I don't know what is." He wrinkled his nose and turned around, repulsed by the smell of burning, rotting flesh that invaded his senses.

"Yeah. I thought we were goners fer sure. Good thing that gas can was up here, huh?"

"Tch. Good thing." Now he knew why the mechanic liked using those damn fire hazards so much. The thrill of taking out an entire hoard with one of them was absolutely liberating. "You and Georgia okay?"

"Yeah, we're fi-" The question caught Ellis off guard, and he stared at Nick like he was the eighth wonder of the world.

The con man gave him a weird look and asked, "What?"

"Did… yew just call her 'Georgia'?"

"… Yeah, so? That's what you named her, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but… I ain't never heard _yew_call'er that."

"Well, what do you _want_ me to call her? Last time I checked this was a free country. I'll call her whatever I damn well please."

It wasn't like the gambler to get his feathers ruffled over such a small issue, and it made Ellis smile like the sun. " 'Ey, that's fine with me, man," he shrugged.

His comrade pegged him with a long cynical glare before turning his back and checking to see how many clips he had left for his gun.

Ellis had definitely woken up by now, so he didn't mind striking up more conversation. " 'Ho man! That was so cool what we just did. It's like in one of them movies where the heroes only have, like, a minute to live, and then they do somethin' at the very last second that saves their asses, and the bad guys are, like, _super_pissed, man!"

The con man let out a short laugh while reloading his pistol, mildly amused by the kid's enthusiasm after all the hullabaloo from this morning.

"And to think," he continued, "that _all_ this started from that alarm goin' off at the jewelry store." The boy shook his head and strolled over to the roof ledge with his hands on his hips, taking in the view of yet another gloomy day.

A silence hung in the air for a while before Nick spoke up in a low voice. "Yeah, about that…" Ellis turned around to face his companion, listening attentively. It took a bit longer for Nick to get out what he wanted to say, but he manned up pretty quick and met the mechanic's gaze dead on. "You know that safe we saw in the back room of the jewelry store?" he asked with a hint of tension.

Ellis didn't quite understand what the con man was referring to at first, but when the full implication of Nick's semi-confession hit him, his eyes grew wide as saucers, letting his jaw drop in the process.

"Oh, Nick, you did _NOT__…__"_

When the gambler didn't try to make an excuse for himself and simply averted his eyes, Ellis barked out one short guffaw, although there wasn't an ounce of humor in it.

"Yew've gotta be kiddin' me! _Yew_set off that alarm? All because yew were tryin' to rob a jewelry store? Seriously, man? What the hell!" Ellis threw his hands up in the air, an incredulous expression thrown in Nick's direction.

"I didn't _know_they had the alarm still set up on that thing! It should've already gone off when the rest of the store was ransacked."

"That don't matter none, Nick! The point is we could've been killed because of that!"

"You don't think I _know_that by now?"

"And _why,_in the name of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, would you want to steal from a jewelry store durin' a goddamn apocalypse? It's not like diamonds and jewels is gonna do us much good with them zombies." The boy took a few steps forward so that he was about arm's length away from the gambler. "I know yew done a few… things back in yer day…" He didn't know what to call Nick's past actions when he didn't know anything about them, so he just stuck with "things". "… But do yew love money _that_much to put our lives, _Georgia's_ life, in danger?"

"It wasn't _money_that was in that safe, Ellis."

"Then what was it?"

Nick held up his handgun.

And that's when Ellis realized that the con man didn't have that weapon before they found the safe house.

"… Oh…"

"Yeah. _OH_." Nick scoffed, letting his arm swing back down to his side. "Glad to know you have such utter faith in me."

The mechanic puffed up in defense. "Well, how was I supposed to know there were weapons in that safe?"

"You couldn't have. _I_didn't even know what was in there. But think about it, Ellis. Why would that safe still be closed after the entire jewelry store had been cleaned out?" Ellis didn't have an answer, and Nick didn't leave room for one. "Someone, probably whoever was holed up in that safe room last, didn't want their shit stolen; _this_shit stolen." He held up the pistol again to prove his point. "And, from what I've seen in this new economy we got going on, if there's anything survivor's like us value more than jewels and riches, it's weapons. People will _kill_for stuff like this nowadays. You know that."

Ellis didn't deny it. He remembered back to a day when he and his group came across a weapons shop where they planned to restock. The owner was still hanging around, which wasn't a big deal at first, but when the old man pulled a shotgun on the lot, things got a big hairy. He was collecting survivors' weapons when they entered his shop, saying that they all originally belonged to him and that he'd put down anyone who didn't "pay the fee". Only then would they be allowed to pass through, which would basically be sending them to their deaths.

Nick was all for shooting the lunatic himself, but Coach, being the gentle giant that he was (at least with people who weren't zombies), persuaded the team to quietly surrender their weapons. He tried to be encouraging by saying they'd come across more along the way, but who knew how long it'd be before they did?

It happened to be at that exact moment that a Smoker plucked the gun shop owner from where he stood, like a fish out of water, dragging him up another building and out of sight. The survivors, had no way of saving him, seeing as their guns had been confiscated beforehand, and could only watch on helplessly as he disappeared through a high up broken window. Well, "helplessly" as in they sort of didn't give a fuck, all except for Ellis and Coach, who felt sorry for the old guy even if he was a bit of a nut case.

The mechanic willed the memory away and got back to the topic at hand. "Why would somebody leave their weapons in there if they valued them so much?"

"Hell if I know. They might not've had time to get to them before a hoard like the one we faced decided to ambush'em."

"Maybe they forgot the safe combination? I remember bein' so pissed when I was tryin' to get my locker open in high school, and I had the right combination an' all, but the damn thing wasn't workin' an-"

"It was a key pad, Einstein. All you have to do is put in a four-digit number and you're home free. I've dealt with those models before and, while they're pretty easy to crack, it's up to Lady Luck whether you get the password right on one of the first three times."

"First three times? Why three?"

"Because…" the con man looked away as if he were embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. "… when it comes to that particular safe, if you put in the wrong combination of numbers, an alarm will sound. It thinks that someone besides the owner is trying to break into it."

"Ohhhh…" Ellis let the information sink in for a bit and curled the corner of his lip into a smirk. "So the ol' gamblin' man's losin' his touch, eh?"

Nick rolled his eyes and glowered at the boy. "OR Lady Luck's just decided to turn into a cold, frigid bitch at the worst possible times."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Nick," he teased. "But how'd yew get that safe open if yew screwed up the password all three times?"

The con man felt a stab in his gut when he heard the phrase "screwed up", and responded to his companion with a sneer. "Because there's another _easier_way to get into that safe that doesn't require the use of the key pad, but rather the destruction of it."

"Huh?"

"Trash the pad, and the safe automatically unlocks itself. Either the developers didn't catch that little flaw in their system, or they just didn't think anyone would be stupid enough to try it."

"And yew were stupid enough, right Nick?"

"Ye- … why you…"

Ellis' laughter didn't last long as the con man snatched his auto shop hat from atop his curly head and threw it to the other side of the roof. Despite the danger his cap had been in, the boy could hardly stifle his snickering as he went to retrieve it.

"Man, Nick. All of that fer a tiny pistol? Too bad there weren't no rifles or pipe bombs stashed in that safe."

"Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers. Here. I saved a couple for you." The gambler tossed his partner two P220 pistols, while the one Nick had was a magnum. Ellis looked at the twin guns and held them with a firm grip, re-familiarizing himself with their heft.

"Al-right, _two_of'em! Thanks, man!"

"No problem. I figured the little imp needed to learn how to shoot a gun at some point."

"Ha ha! I don't think she's old enough to be firin' off a letter, especially when she don't even know the alphabet yet."

Nick wanted to laugh at the boy's cheese-tastic joke, but held back. "You kidding me? She'd be a pistol packing mama! And hey, the kid needs to start pulling her own wait around here. It's either that, or she can take her little diaper bag and hit the road."

Ellis shook his head, loving every minute of their back and forth banter. "Seriously, Nick, you have somethin' against babies, or are yew just one of them crabby old men who yells at kids to get off their lawn?"

"Let's just say I'm not a guy that needs to have a bunch of kids hanging around me like Ronald McFucking Donald."

"Aw, c'mon. I'm sure you'd be great with kids if you just opened yerself up to'em. You wanna carry around Georgia for a bit? Do some father-daughter bondin' time?"

"First of all, I ain't her daddy. Believe me, she doesn't need someone like _me_as her old man. Second of all, overalls, _two_kids enough to deal with already. Now are we gonna stand here yapping the day away or what?" Nick spat at the roof's surface and started to make his way towards the fire escape.

"So is that a 'no' on carrying Geor-"

"I think I'll use the "skip" card on that offer, thank you."

Ellis shrugged, figuring there was no use in pursuing the matter any further, and followed after his fellow survivor with baby in tow.

"Don't worry, girl. He's not all that bad once you've gotten past the whole 'Wizard of Oz' act." He smiled back at Georgia, who had closed her eyes for a mid-morning nap, tuckered out from all the earlier excitement.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** Yay part 5! I enjoyed writing the dialogue for this chapter. :) Nick seems to be less crabby than he was in the beginning, which means we're getting closer to more Nellis time! I hope none of you are too put off by the lack of romance so far. I'm getting there, I promise!_

_And yup, Ellis has a dream sequence. Confused by it? You won't be once it all starts coming together in the end. ;)_

_As always, thank you for reading!_


	6. Part 6

_**AN:**Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy this next chapter! :)_

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_**Part 6**_

"Now, now, Georgia. I know yer not used to this stuff yet, but yew gotta drink somethin'. Yer mama ain't around no more to breast feed ya an' all that."

"Maybe you could substitute for her. With as much mothering as you've been doing I wouldn't be surprised if you started lactating already."

Ellis shot the conman a glare, one corner of his mouth curling upward in annoyance. He continued tipping the flask against Georgia's open lips so that the water would stream down her throat, although her pinched facial expression showed that she didn't appreciate the gesture. Nonetheless, the child was slowly adapting to the taste and allowed herself to drink a reasonable amount to keep moderately hydrated.

The survivors had stopped to rest inside an abandoned recreational facility that was full of attractions like one would see at a Chuck E Cheese's. There was an arcade, go-karts, laser tag, a restaurant, and even a bar area for parents to hang out while the kids ran around hyped up on pizza and toting around ribbons of coupons. That's where Nick wanted to spend their break, which wasn't a surprise after Ellis saw the pool and poker tables situated around the place, but the glass doors leading into the bar were locked, and there was no point in risking another alarm going off by breaking through them.

So, by choice of Ellis, they settled down in one of the seating areas of the bowling alley. Each lane had a small table and two shiny red booths on either side for the players to sit. A menu lay in the middle for people to order and eat while bowling. Nick picked it up and flipped it from front to back just to see what kind of food they served here. The usual burgers, sandwiches and pizza were visible in big bold letters and, although the gambler wouldn't normally eat stuff this cheap, a mushroom swiss burger didn't sound so bad at the moment.

"Good girl, Georgia. Don'tcha feel better now that your all changed and have some food in yer belly?" He held her underneath the armpits and lifted her high up a few times just to see that toothless smile again. Nick briefly thought of how funny it'd be if the little imp decided to urp her gourmet meal of peas and carrots all over him.

"Which is more than we can say for us. I feel like my stomach's about to cave in on itself." Nick tossed the menu across the table and watched as it skidded off the edge.

"I know the feeling. Man, I could eat a whole horse right about now! Not that I would eat a horse, 'cuz that's just plain disgustin' an' all…"

"Then I wouldn't go to China if I were you."

"Huh? Why?"

"…"

"Wha… really? Chinese people eat horses? Aw, what the hell, man?"

"A lot of countries eat horse meat, Ellis."

"But we don't!"

"That's because it's illegal to slaughter, sell, and/or serve horse meat in America. I'm talking about some European countries."

"That's just wrong, man."

"Hey, India thinks we're sick for eating cows. It all depends on the culture, Overalls."

"Can we just not talk about it anymore?" The southerner said in a firm tone while setting Georgia in his lap.

The conman shrugged. "Whatever. You brought it up." Nick rose from his booth, the plastic grunting as it rubbed against itself, and left the bowling nook.

"Where ya goin'?" Ellis asked.

"I'm gonna see if there's any grub left in the kitchen. I'll be back." He gave a wave of his hand. The boy let his full weight return to the cushy seat and frowned after the conman. He sincerely hoped Nick would find something to eat. Anything! Just a bag of potato chips would've been a blessing.

A loud rumbling noise came from the mechanic's stomach, and he groaned back in response. Even the baby food started to look pretty good, but they were in short supply of that and Georgia needed it more than they did. Besides, Nick had already exclaimed how he wouldn't touch the stuff with a ten foot pole. Ellis tasted some earlier and didn't think it was half bad, but a couple ounces of pulverized peas definitely wasn't going to tide him over anytime soon.

With nothing else to do but bounce Georgia on his knee, the boy examined the area around them. Some of the bowling balls on the racks nearby had tumbled from their shelf and into random parts of the facility, while others remained untouched or sat in the cubby that would spit your ball back out after your turns. His eyes traveled towards the sleek alleyways leading to where a set of toppled bowling pins lay unmoving near the back gutter, or whatever you called that gaping hole where the pins would get shoveled in. Ellis had only bowled once or twice in his life, and he didn't quite have the knack for it, nor did he know a lick about the terminology. He briefly wondered if Nick ever used to bowl back in the day, but snorted at the thought of the conman poised in that ridiculous position after you've rolled your ball; arm outstretched, leg thrown back like a freakin' ballerina… it was almost too much!

Georgia saw the boy's grin and smiled back with her gums. Ellis looked down at her and went through a second bout of laughing.

"Yew think that'd be funny too, huh?"

"Gheeeeeh~"

"Now if only he'd lighten up some, then maybe this whole ordeal wouldn't be so bad, don'tcha think?"

Before he could cajole another response out of the infant, Ellis heard a clattering noise coming from the bowling alley in front of them. He whipped his head up to see that a bowling pin had somehow teetered over, rolling a few inches before it stopped completely. Eyes wide and alert, the mechanic looked around for any signs of danger, but saw nothing but a bunch of empty lanes. Silence blanketed the facility so much so that Ellis could hear the low ringing of a pulse in his ears. The murky atmosphere only added to the eeriness of the place, and the boy's imagination began playing tricks on him in his anxious state. He stared at the intimidating chasm at the end of the bowling alley, as if waiting for something to show itself. Nothing ever did, but the boy couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't alone. Although, it might've just been the draft that suddenly came wafting from the lanes, causing goosebumps to prickle the surface of his skin.

Ellis didn't even hear the footsteps come up from behind him until he heard the familiar voice of his companion.

"Thinking of playing a round or two?"

Nick strolled up to their booth with a cardboard box in hand. He sat down across from the mechanic and dumped the contents out onto the table.

"Woah! Where'd yew find all this?" Ellis asked with eyes shining, the conman's question having been forgotten.

"Where do you think? In the kitchen. They have boxes upon boxes of shit in there."

"Well, I'll be!" The boy didn't hesitate to snatch up a couple packets of Doritos and candy bars.

"It's not exactly what I'd call a well balanced meal, but it's the only nonperishable stuff they had."

"Oh, I'll be fine with just this." He tore open the aluminum package of a mini Twix and popped the creamy confectionary into his mouth. The small candies were most likely given away as prizes for kids at one point.

"Yeah, I'm sure you will. You could probably run on sugar alone and still be your jolly self." Nick disdainfully dug into his bag of cool ranch chips and started munching on them.

"Well, I wouldn't mind havin' myself a good ol' fashion cheeseburger. I do miss the taste of meat…" he said while daydreaming of the last time he actually had such sustenance.

"Yeah, well you can either eat what rotten meat they have left in there, or you can actually thank me for getting you any of this in the first place."

"Thanks, man. I really do appreciate it."

"Uh-huh."

The two made idle chit chat while they fought back their hunger with junk food. Ellis opened up a can of warm pop and took a few swigs, making face at how flat it'd become. Nick snickered and chose a bottle of water as his drink for the afternoon, which the mechanic decided was a better alternative to his sugary soda as he grabbed one for himself. Georgia was seated in the boy's lap, often times trying to get a hold of what her caretaker was eating, but Ellis made sure to keep the food well out of her reach. Luckily, she didn't get too upset from having the treats denied from her.

" 'Ho man! Seriously? You hit him in the balls?"

"Ironic, right? Don't get me wrong, it was a complete accident, but dammit if it didn't make me feel good afterwards." The conman chuckled.

"Was yer dad pissed?"

"Nah. He was too busy holding his crotch and trying to find his voice again. We just went home after that."

"Golly, I don't think I ever had a bowlin' accident before. Then again, I never bowled much. Although, there was this one time where Keith stole a couple of bowlin' balls from our local bowlin' alley, and he wanted to see how far he could catapult them from this thing he made from way back when - I forget what it's called officially…"

"A trebuchet?"

"Yeah, that's it! How'd you know?"

"He wasn't the only one who had to make those for high school physics." The conman took another drink from his water bottle, remembering how much he had hated that class.

"Well, anyway, those things flew over an entire football field, I tell ya, but we soon found out that they ended up landin' in-"

_*clatter*_

Before Nick could register where the sound had come from, Ellis was on his feet in a split second, handing off Georgia to the conman in his haste.

"Uhhh, Ellis?" Nick, still sitting, looked at his fellow survivor's rigid form with a puzzled expression. He then looked to see what was so interesting and saw that a couple of the pins had fallen over. His eyes switched back and forth between the lane and his companion, a subtle smirk on his face. "Dude, I think the sugar is making you a bit jumpy."

"Shh! Hang on a sec…" He was thoroughly convinced now that no draft could make those pins fall over that easily. Ellis took a few cautious steps toward the alley, neck arching forward and eyes squinting into the dark pit against the far wall. Once his vision became clearer, the mechanic could see a faint shadow lurking within the mouth of the alley behind the rest of the standing bowling pins, and attached to the form were what looked like two large yellow eyes.

"What the-!"

KKRRAAAAAUUUUUGH!

In a big gray blur, Ellis was rammed into one of the racks of bowling balls on the opposite side of their seating area. Nick had seen the Charger barreling towards them at the last minute and took a dive along with Georgia behind the booth before the beast could mow them all down. Meanwhile, the mechanic let out a sharp yell as his back hit the racks, the blunt metal digging into his shoulder blades as the Charger held him down. Once it had regained its own footing, the zombie grasped Ellis firmly around his torso, the meaty hand nearly squeezing the air out of his lungs, and lifted the survivor up to begin the painful process of grinding it's victim into the ground.

Nick recovered from his initial shock and set Georgia down on the booth before assessing the situation. The Charger slammed Ellis down into the bowling rack, each time followed by an agonizing grunt on the mechanic's part. Nick knew he didn't have much time before the boy's body would be beaten into a pulp, and one lousy magnum wouldn't be able to bring the monster down before the fact, so he grabbed one of the bowling balls that had rolled towards him, admiring that it turned out to be a sixteen pounder, and made his way towards the beast. With the makeshift weapon raised up high, the conman whacked the Charger across the side of its head, eliciting a distinct crack from the ball on skull contact. The sudden blow stunned the Charger enough so that it's grip loosened on the survivor, but, unfortunately, didn't let go just yet.

Ellis, a bit limp from the damage his back had taken so far, gulped in air he had lost from the pounding he'd been receiving, although the crushing hand around his ribcage didn't do much to help. He dug his fingernails into the calloused arm that was taking him hostage, trying desperately to free himself before the Charger could come to its senses, but he was no match for the brute strength keeping him locked in place.

At first, Nick couldn't understand why the bowling ball hadn't at least knocked the thing out, but then he remembered how much stuff collided with a Charger's head on a daily basis. The conman's attack must've felt like a mosquito bite compared to a brick wall.

Uttering a muffled grunt, the Charger faced it's assailant, it's sunken-in eyes laced with rage. The gambler already had his magnum up and shooting directly into the beast's abdomen, hoping it would cripple it in some form or fashion. He stopped firing, though, when the large infected held up it's overgrown arm to shield itself from the bullets, and thus putting Ellis in harms way. The boy was still struggling to yank himself from the Charger's hand, but to no avail. Much to Nick's dismay, it looked like the beast was about ready to surge forth in to another charging attack, and there was little he could do to avoid it.

With an angry bellow the Charger began it's assault, the one tennis shoe on his right leg screeching against the tile floor as he burst forward right into the conman's chest. It took him all the way back to where the closed-off bar area was and smashed through the glass doors as if they were made of tissue paper. The shards couldn't penetrate the tough exterior of the Charger's ramming arm, but the rest of his skin was littered with small glittering pieces of glass, as well as a few larger chunks here and there. Fortunately, the two survivors' faces were shielded when the shower of glass hit, but no doubt they would have to pluck of few shards from whatever had been exposed, that is if they lived that long.

The Charger's foot had caught on the metal doorframe when he went through, causing it to stumble to a stop and coming all too close to crushing Ellis if it had fallen over. Nick, on the other hand, went flying behind the bar and right into one of the lower cabinets. A few stray wine glasses on the back counter shattered on the floor next to him from the jarring impact.

The gambler allowed himself a few seconds to shake his head and regain his senses from the surreal experience of careening through the air, wincing when a burning pain pulsed in a spot on his back. One of the cabinet handles had jabbed him in the muscle near his spine. He couldn't wait to see what that bruise would look like.

He could hear his attacker grunting from across the way, but wasn't sure if showing himself would be a wise decision just yet. The conman scanned the bar for a potential weapon; anything would do, just as long as he could get Ellis away from that goddamn, overgrown zombie! He was surprised that the Charger hadn't already released him after all this abuse. Then again, that only meant the rumors about Chargers never letting go of their prey until death were true. As thoughts of how bad this situation was starting to look entered the man's head, his foot hit something that made a familiar clanking sound. His eyes latched onto the object that happened to be within his reach.

On the other side of the bar, the Charger hoisted itself up with a push of it's callused arm and spread it's legs wide to keep from falling back over from dizziness. Ellis breathed a couple of moans, but for the most part he was out for the count. His head had come into direct contact with the glass doors, and, sadly, it wasn't as used to running into things as Charger's were. Said beast couldn't see where his second victim had fallen, so his short attention span was turned towards the remaining survivor in his hand. Even though Ellis appeared to be dead, the Charger could still feel faint puffs of air brushing against what would most likely be identified as it's thumb. It's job was far from done.

But, before it could finish off the boy clutched in it's grasp, a white figure sprang up from behind the bar counter, emitting a small clicking sound of which any infected was all too familiar. The sunken yellow eyes widened slightly when it noticed it's second victim, still alive and kicking, as well as the AK-47 aimed directly at it's scrawny little head.

"Karma's a bitch, _bitch_."

Nick unloaded half a clip of ammo into the infected's head, a few of the bullets lodging themselves in it's thickened skull before others started piercing through to the other side. The Charger hadn't been given enough time to heft his ramming arm up to cover it's face, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway seeing as that gesture wold've exposed it's sensitive underbelly. With a guttural cry, the great behemoth was brought down to it's knees and promptly fell forward due to the weight of his arm after releasing it's currently unconscious victim.

As soon as the Charger hit the ground, Nick hastily put on the AK's gun strap like one would a sash and slid over the bar counter top, breaking some beer glasses in the process, and landed awkwardly between two of the bar stools. He was at Ellis' side in a matter of milliseconds, pushing the Charger's body a few inches away so that the boy's foot wasn't trapped underneath it's torso.

"Ellis? Ellis! Yo, c'mon, man, don't die on me here. It ain't your time yet. If anyone's gonna be goin' first, it'll be me." His attempt at humor was lost upon deaf ears. The mechanic must've taken a pretty hard hit to the head for him to be this out of it. "Shit!" The conman hissed between gritted teeth. Although he didn't see too much of the boy's blood on the floor, it didn't mean there wasn't any seeping out somewhere. If the damage were purely internal, Nick would be a helpless, hopeless wreck.

No, no, no. It was too soon. The kid's skin hadn't gone cold yet.

"Hey! Get it together, Overalls!" The use of his companion's pet name didn't make those eyes open any faster. With more frustration than worry, the gambler tightened his lips and smacked his fellow survivor across the face. "WAKE UP, GODDAMMIT!"

As if Nick's hands held the power of life itself, the slap jolted Ellis into the waking world once more. The mechanic groaned, his closed eyes squeezing for a moment as he slowly lulled his head back and forth. At least his motor functions all seemed to work just fine. As for brain damage, Nick wouldn't know until the boy started talking.

Ellis mumbled incoherently while struggling against the gravity pushing against his eyelids. He might've fallen back into unconsciousness if it weren't for all the aches and pains keeping him grounded in reality, which soon came rushing back to him in one big kick. Without warning, the boy gasped and shot up as if her were spring-loaded, which in turn caused Nick to jump as well.

"Where is it? Did we get'em? I swear, when I get a hold'a him I'llfuughdhglugh…"

Ellis' legs wobbled, pulling him back a few steps, and he soon realized that keeping his arms out in an attempt to balance himself had little to no effect on his woozy state whatsoever. Before he crumpled to the glass-strewn floor beneath, Nick was there to break his fall with one hand clutching at the kid's waist and the other underneath the opposite armpit. Ellis moaned in protest at the fingers digging into his bruised sides and shifted so that he could at least sit up without any help.

"Easy there, sport. Do you even remember what happened?"

It took a while for the boy to answer, but Nick knew he was trying to recover what senses the Charger had pounded out of him.

"… Yeah. I r'member." The mechanic's southern drawl was 10x heavier than normal on account of how groggy he was. "That… fuckin' Charger… it got me real good, didn' it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it sure did." The conman chuckled a bit, glad to see that the kid was relatively the same as when he last spoke to him.

Ellis looked over to his right and studied the fallen beast lying a few feet away from them. "Did'ju kill it?"

"Yep."

"How?"

Nick snubbed his nose with a thumb before nodding his head towards the counter. "Found a rifle behind the bar."

The mechanic lazily moved his eyes towards the gun strapped to his comrade's chest. "An AK?"

"Uh-huh. Lucky thing, right?"

"I'll say… I guess someone was holdin' up in here at some point."

"… That, or it's been there since the day this place opened."

"What?"

"I'm just saying I wouldn't be surprised if the bartender originally had this gun stashed behind the counter just in case."

Ellis gave the conman an incredulous look. " 'Just in case'? Just in case of _what;_the kids get too outta control?"

"Heh. Now _that_would be funny, but it's not so much the kids as the adults, Overalls."

"Aw, c'mon, man… that's just stupid."

"Hey. A room full of tired, irritated, 24/7 parents is not always an easy crowd. And this being the south and all..."

"Wh'ever… God, man, I feel like horse shit…" He ghosted a hand over his tender rib cage and sucked in through his teeth at how sensitive it was.

"We should probably get you patched up, fireball. I don't want you falling all over me like a drunken sailor for the whole damn day."

"Yew don' look too good yerself, Nick," he said while eyeing the few gashes and cuts on his hands from the parade of glass that had assaulted them earlier.

"Yeah, but we'll worry about me later. You're the one who became a Charger's personal meat mallet." He threw one of the boy's arms around his shoulders, mindful not to grab the mechanic's sides with his other hand and instead keeping it under his armpit. After some pained keening on Elli's part, the two carefully moseyed their way out of the bar area and back towards where they had been originally. As soon as the bowling alley came into view, the mechanic's body seized up in accordance with his audible gasp.

"Georgia! Is she-?"

"She's _fine._Don't have a heart attack. I put her in one of the booths before coming to get you."

"Oh, good… thanks fer that, by the way."

"No problemo, kid. You think I was gonna let that thing have you?"

"Err… no, I guess not." The mechanic's face flushed a bit at his companion's phrasing, but it wasn't noticeable to Nick seeing as both their faces were covered in grime of all kinds.

"Besides, if you even think for one second about leaving me all alone to take care of little miss Baby Alive over there, I will personally bring you back to life with a defibrillator and kill you all over again."

Ellis laughed as best he could, the pain in his sides dousing most of it. "Well, that's real comfortin' to know, Nick. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

"You better," the conman grinned and offered the boy a coy glance.

Georgia was doing freaking fabulous, of course. The baby was _asleep,_for crying out loud! Nick entertained the thought of waking her up just to make her cry, but felt that that might be a bit too sadistic. Not to mention, Ellis would get onto him like a goddamn nanny.

"I can't believe she fell asleep while we were going through seven levels of hell back there. Tch," he sneered and shook his head at the infant.

"Better'n bein' with us at the time, though." There was truth in the boy's statement, Nick wouldn't deny that. Death by Charger was one of those more agonizing ways to go, and it'd take no more than one single swipe of it's overgrown fist to silence a baby like Georgia for good.

He inwardly shuddered at the gruesome thought and put it out of his mind.

"I'm just glad I didn' have her with me when I got rammed. That woulda' been jus' awful- ow!"

"Hold still. You think this is easy?" He was referring to picking out fifty-something glass shards imbedded in the boy's skin. "I'm not a fucking surgeon, you know."

"Oh, I don' know 'bout that. You always go 'round sayin' how Doctor Nick'll fix ya up, an' all that," Ellis smirked.

"Yeah well, unfortunately, my PhD only extends so far." He finished plucking out the last slivers of glass from the mechanic's tattooed bicep. "Alright. Shirt, off. Now."

"Whatever you say, 'Doctor Nick'," the boy snickered while peeling the Bull Shifters T-shirt over his wide shoulders.

"Ha, ha. Congratulations, you're a comedian," Nick rolled his eyes and beckoned for Ellis to remove the shirt faster despite the kid's injured state. After some gentle maneuvering, Ellis popped the shirt's neckline off from around his head and set it down next to him on the booth.

If it weren't for the various purple and black blotches marring the kid's form, Nick would've taken his sweet time in admiring Ellis' Adonis-like features. Okay, so maybe "Adonis-like" was a bit ooey-gooey, but it seemed the most fitting out of the hundreds of other ways the conman could describe him. For a twenty-three year old, the mechanic had been blessed with a beautiful body, that much was for sure. He was built like a rock, which explained how he had the stamina to keep going each and every day. Nick only wished that _he_ still had that much youthful vitality left in him.

"Alright. This might take a while," he said while unraveling the remaining gauze they had shoved in Georgia's baby bag.

"S'alright. Take yer time." Ellis said this for his sake as much as Nick's because of how sore he felt.

The cleanup didn't take too long since all they had to do was make sure the cuts were disinfected and the blood was wiped away, but the bruising on Ellis' ribs were just going to have to deal with being wrapped up. There wasn't much they could do about the beating his back took either, so Nick left that part alone. The conman found a rather large knot on the mechanic's head from when he was smashed into the glass doors, but at least it wasn't bleeding. All in all, Ellis came away from the attack better than either of them expected. It would hurt like a bitch to bend or twist his body in certain ways, but it was nothing the boy couldn't overcome, of course.

Nick had just finished applying some gauze around his arm where glass had previously been ingrained and got some more of the flimsy cotton fabric ready for Ellis' torso.

"Alright. Turn towards me, Overalls," he instructed, and Ellis did as he was told without question. "Now lift your arms." The conman stretched the gauze out and hunched over a bit to be level with the boy's chest. "Sorry if this hurts a little," he said before beginning the process of wrapping. Every other beat he would lean in closer to wind the bandage in a semi tight circle around the diameter of Ellis' middle, making sure to cover every inch of reddened skin. The gamblers fingers brushed against the southerner a couple times, which sent a few tingles up his spine from how cold they were. A swarm of goosebumps pecked at his arms, but those were soon washed away when Nick's almond eyes flicked up to meet his own. How many temperature changes could one's body go through in the course of ten seconds?

Ellis stared back, the lump in this throat bobbing when he swallowed, and he must've licked his lips in an odd way because the conman was giving him a rather strange look. The mechanic prayed that he couldn't see his chest beating rapidly in time with his heart, although he wasn't sure why it was going so fast in the first place.

The brief spell between them, or whatever had taken over in that moment, broke when Nick tied a secured knot in the gauze around Ellis' abdomen. The boy cringed at the tug, but didn't receive any sort of apology for it.

"Okay, you're done." He scooted back on the booth to assess his work. "I tried not to make you look too much like a mummy, but then again you'd probably enjoy that, wouldn't you?"

"Only on Halloween," the boy smiled, his memories of trick-or-treating in his old neighborhood resurfacing for a short time. He touched the bandage wrapped around his forehead that covered up the big bump. Wearing his hat put pressure on the injury, so he loosened the back of it a couple notches and slipped it on carefully.

"Great! Now we can get the hell outta here," Nick said with fake enthusiasm while standing to pop the muscles in his achy arms and back.

"Wait, what about yew?" Although most of it was a blur, Ellis distinctly remembered Nick getting caught in the Charger's line of fire at one point.

"I'm fine. We need to save the rest of our supplies for when we actually need it."

"R'yew sure?"

"Positive, kiddo. My suit saved me from most of the glass anyway, and the bruising isn't as bad as yours. Don't worry about it."

"… Awright then." Ellis dropped the issue, reluctantly. He hated that he was the only one who was tended to, but the gambler didn't seem to be leaving any room for argument. He was walking just fine, after all. Perhaps his wounds weren't as bad as Ellis thought…

Once the two survivors had gathered all of their stuff together, including a bit of the food Nick had found earlier, they made their way towards the exit of the building.

Nick had Georgia slung on his back even though he hadn't even offered to do so. The mechanic gave an appreciative smile, which Nick responded with a nonchalant snort, and helped carry the baby bag since it was lighter.

The _gun_, however, stayed with the conman.

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_To be continued…_

_**AN:** Chargers are one of my favorite infected because they make for good hurt/comfort fics. C: I'm so terrible, lol._

_Thank you for reading!_


	7. Part 7

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy~!_

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_**Part 7**_

Muffled cursing could be heard from the sidewalk in front of a ransacked candy store on Clayton St. The area was relatively clean for what used to be such a hot spot for shop-a-holics and the hip urban crowd, but there were the occasional infected women in their animal print pump stilettos and messy hair extensions that would try to take a bite out of the two unsuspecting male survivors who had traversed into their territory. The ladies' man of the duo would greet these lovely young girls with a debonair smile and his own personal form of a facial; AK style.

At the moment, though, said charmer was currently trying to scrape off a wad of Pepto-Bismol pink bubble gum that had latched onto his shoe by grinding it into the curb. The substance stretched across his weathered soles, still too sticky to want to cling to anything else, only allowing a small amount onto the concrete surface. Nick grunted in annoyance and gave up. It would lose it's adhesiveness eventually if they kept walking. There was no point in ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes over a piece of gum that some asshole spit onto the sidewalk. The conman lumbered on over to where Ellis was waiting for him, feeling the grit from the street attaching itself to his right sole. He dragged the one foot every other step to see if he couldn't still rub it off in the process.

The southerner forced the muscles in his mouth to frown lest he start outright laughing at how funny Nick's walk was. The attempt to hide his jovial expression, however, was not missed by his companion.

"You wanna wear this instead?" Nick lifted his foot to show the slightly muted pink stain smudged on his shoe. The kid gave a quick shake of his head, lips pressed together to hold in his amusement. He received a breathy snort in return as he and Nick kept trudging along Clayton St.

"You'd think that incidents like this wouldn't happen as often since zombie's don't exactly chew gum." His sarcastic tone wasn't helping to stifle Ellis' snickering.

"Actually, when yew think about it, it's kind of a good thing, ya know?"

Nick shot him a dark look. "And how the hell is getting gum all over my shoe a 'good thing'?"

"Well, like you said, zombies don't really like gum none, which means there must be other survivors around, considerin' that piece on yer shoe is still all sticky n' shit."

Nick had to admit that the boy made a good point; freshly chewed gum just lying on the sidewalk of a street that seemed to have been cleared of most infected? It was border line suspicious, if you asked him, like someone else had recently been through this area. And, wouldn't you know, Nick happened to see a few bullet holes dotted along a couple of the shops' exteriors. That, and judging by how old the gum on his shoe was, were obvious indicators that another survivor had already passed by here.

" 'Ey, Nick! C'mere fer a sec," Ellis called from the middle of the road. The conman went to see what the kid was shouting about.

"What is it?"

"Look at this." The mechanic held up a shiny silver object that looked like a hoop earring, although it was rather dull now that blood had crusted over part of it.

"So? Some zombie skank lost her earring. This is important, why?"

"I found _this_with it."

Unlike the jewelry, Nick was very familiar with the little black glove Ellis showed him next.

"Coach…"

The conman reached out to take the fo-leather accessory in his own hand and examined it, as if by doing so it would give him a clue to where their lost comrades might be.

"Yeah," the boy answered solemnly. "And I think that earring belongs to the ones that Ro has."

"They've been through here," Nick said in an almost whisper. He had nearly given up on the thought of ever regrouping with the other two again since they had gotten so turned around, but finding these accessories had sparked reassurance in the gambler once more.

"Yew think they were havin' a bit of trouble?" It was a reasonable question to ask. The blood on Rochelle's earring was probably from when a zombie unwittingly tore it out of her earlobe (ouch), and Coach's glove could've come off a number of ways, one being that he was going hand to hand with an infected that ripped it right off.

"I wouldn't doubt it. Rochelle was pretty messed up last we heard from them, remember? I'm sure Coach had to muscle their way through with her out of commission." He handed the glove back to Ellis for him to put it in the baby bag. "It can't have been more than a day since they've past by here. We should keep moving and see if we can catch up."

"… Right." Ellis stared at the hoop earring he kept toying with between his fingers, a forlorn look overtaking his usually cheerful face.

Nick sighed. He wanted to tell the kid how moping around wasn't going to help them catch up any faster, but refrained from making him anymore upset than he already was. "I'm sure they're fine, Ellis. You know them - they can take care of themselves. Hell, if we're still alive and kicking, then you _know_they gotta be."

"I know," the mechanic nodded. "I just hope they ain't too badly hurt is all."

"Well, if you're that worried about them, we'd better get a move on, don't you think?" His tone was firm, but not at all harsh.

"Okay." Ellis slipped Rochelle's earring into a small outside pocket of the baby bag and made sure the zipper was sealed before resuming their walk down Clayton St., their pace having picked up a bit from before.

It was easygoing for the few minutes they had been traveling, but Nick noticed that he was having a harder time keeping up than usual. The cloth strap around his chest pressed uncomfortably into the bruises he had acquired from the Charger earlier that day, but the pain was rather dull at least. He glanced back at Georgia, mildly surprised that she had been so quiet this whole time. The baby was still alive, it seemed, eyes open and attentive to nothing in particular. While she had been asleep beforehand, Nick's gum-shoe dance must've roused her.

The conman shook his head and faced forward. "The twerp weighs more than she looks."

"I told ya," Ellis piped up. "It's a real killer on yer back, ain't it? You sure you don' wanna trade off or somethin'?"

"Nope. I'm fine. You're the one who has a bad back right now, sport. Not me." Nick smirked at the implications of his younger companion having back trouble instead of himself.

"Oh, don'tchu worry none. I'll bounce right back like I always do. That's the benefits of still bein' so _young_an' all."

Ellis had obviously caught the hidden innuendo in Nick's words, and it made the gambler give him a playful sneer.

"Well, this kid has us both beat by a long shot." He gestured to Georgia with a jerk of his head. "Not a single scratch after everything we've been through."

"It's like she's some sort of miracle baby, or somethin'. I think Keith was that way too when he was little."

"Keith? The guy who's gotten 90% of his bones broken and his body burned and his organs removed and his-"

Ellis interrupted the man's tirade. "Well he ain't no miracle baby _now_, of course. But he was, I swear it! Whenever we pulled stunts as kids, he hardly ever got hurt, an' I guess 'cuz it kinda rubbed off on me, too."

"Yeah, they have a name for something like that, Overalls. It's called dumb luck."

The boy shrugged, "Maybe yer right. But, whatever it was, I like to think we was bein' looked out fer by someone."

"Someone?" Nick asked as he adjusted the strap across his chest.

"Yup. No doubt we wouldn't've gotten away with half the stuff we did if it weren't fer that."

Nick could only figure that the mechanic was referring to the one and only big man upstairs, or whatever people called him nowadays. Ellis seemed like the kind of guy who'd be praying over every meal he had, or adding a "God" before the "bless you". As for the gambler… let's just say he didn't expect there to be a parking spot reserved for him behind those pearly gates. Did that bother him? Not in the slightest. While he wasn't denying the fact that there was a God out there, he hadn't made a point to dedicate part of his life to something that only _might_be instead of something that _is._It was either one or the other - a two-sided coin - and, in the end, it was easier for the conman to simply not partake in this particular game.

" 'Course it might've also been on account of how much we asked the good Lord to keep us safe 'n' sound. I think it's when Keith stopped goin' to church regularly that he started makin' trips to the hospital more often. Ain't that the darnedest thing?" Ellis gave a hardy chuckle.

Nick recalled a time when Ellis had mentioned to the group about his Catholic upbringing, which made the conman laugh at first when he imagined the gritty hick dressed up in his Sunday best. Wearing anything besides the coveralls and autoshop hat he had throughout their journey sounded a bit ridiculous. Then again, the clothes they wore now didn't exactly define who they were in their past lives. For all he knew, Rochelle could've been a famous neurosurgeon had she not told them herself that she worked as a reporter. Nick had become so comfortable with the roles they had all settled themselves into that he never really thought about what kind of people they were outside of the apocalypse. Not that it mattered now.

"Honestly, kid, I don't think skipping Sunday school is what made him into Evil Kenevil Jr. gone wrong."

The mechanic guffawed at Nick's reference. "I'll have to tell Keith 'bout that one."

"You do that," Nick smiled at the boy's brightened mood.

The two of them continued their trek in silence for the most part, which was just fine with the conman, Georgia making your typical baby noises every now and then. The further away from downtown they went, the more populated it was with infected. So far, they had come across over a dozen commons, one hunter, two jockeys, and a boomer to boot. The two survivors were amazed at how easily they were able to plow through the mess, but the possibility that their friends weren't too far off gave them a boost of adrenaline, even without the shot.

Ellis ran out of bullets for one of his pistols at some point, and the other was short on supply as it were. His only other defense was a frying pan, and that just wasn't going to cut it. The conman's AK was doing pretty well if only because he was purposely conserving as much ammo as he could by aiming for the zombies' heads in an instant kill.

The one jockey that had clamped itself onto the kid's back was promptly thrown off first and then dealt two shots between the eyes, leaving nothing but a scrawny, pink sack of bones at their feet.

"Thanks, man. Hate those things…" He grumbled as he let his companion pull him up by the hand.

"You and me both, kid." Nick wiped the sweat off his palms real quick while staring at the ghastly smile forever carved onto the Jockey's face. He'd often times refer to these particular special infected as "jokers" because of how much they reminded him of the renowned villain from Batman; always laughing, never frowning, and crafty, too. Despite their deranged behavior, there were a number of times when a Jockey would seem to purposefully lead it's chosen victim away from other survivors, or over a ledge, sometimes right into a swarm of other infected. It was unsettling how clever these monsters turned out to be in combat. For all he knew, the bastards had their own secret way of communicating with each other, and not just the Jockeys. This gave the gambler a queazy feeling in the pit of his gut.

As if on cue, another demented bout of cackling erupted from behind him, not but a few feet away. He heard the mechanic call his name to warn him, and as Nick turned to defend himself he saw the second Jockey pounce from the ground and up into the air, targeting the baby-clad back of the conman.

"Oh no you don't, you little-"

Ellis came from around the side faster than Nick could process and smashed the flat end of his skillet right into the Jockey's bloody face. The special infected went down like a sandbag, obviously stunned from the sudden blow, which gave his attacker the perfect chance to lay more well executed smacks to the head, rendering it unconscious for now. This wasn't good enough, however, as Nick came forward and planted a single bullet into the Jockey's skull like he had the last one, putting it the full seven feet under.

The two men glared down at the infected circus freak, new blood stains that were not their own adorning their clothing from the close encounters. The sound of a bellowing Boomer came from their right, in which Ellis raised his pistol and took out the blubbering mass of bile with one shot, his eyes never leaving the Jockey they'd killed. A telltale heavy booming noise followed after.

The survivors looked at each other, breathing heavily from the wave of panic that had coursed through them. Ellis was the first to speak up.

"Is she alright?"

"You tell me." Nick turned his back to the mechanic so that he could check on the baby. The boy gasped when he saw flecks of blood on her cheeks and forehead, but soon realized that they were from the Jockey he had K.O.'d. Georgia had a stream of drool sliding down her lip, but other than that she seemed okay.

"She's fine," he let out a sigh of relief. "Man, that was close."

"Too close," Nick snorted. "Good thing you went into mama bear mode before it got to me."

"Yeah, I- what?"

"What?"

"Did you just say I went into 'mama bear mode'?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, one wouldn't usually beat a Jockey to death with a frying pan like that, dude."

"Well, I didn't want that thing to hurt her! Yew were pretty ruthless yerself now, ya know?"

"Hey, better safe than sorry, right? It's always a good idea to double tap the specials before they double tap you." Nick couldn't tell if they were arguing or handing each other compliments at this point.

Ellis huffed and held his hands up. "Fine. I'm the mama bear… and you're a koala."

The conman's brow furrowed as the kid turned to keep walking, not quite sure what he was getting at with that comment until he felt Georgia wriggling between his shoulder blades.

"Oh ho ho…" he gave a cynical laugh while twisted the makeshift baby sling around so that he could have access to the child. He held her up by the armpits and approached the boy. "Ellis, you should've _told_me that you were getting jealous of my bonding with Georgia. Well, guess what? You got your wish. Here ya go!" He plopped the infant into the mechanic's hands with a fake smile on his face.

"Wha-? Nick, your bein' awful sore 'bout this whole thing. And weren't yew the one who volunteered to carry her fer a while?"

"Volunteer? Who volunteered? I never once said I would carry her for the rest of the day."

"Well, I just assumed since you picked her up yer damn self and put her on yer back an' all-"

"Yeah, you assume a lot of things, Ellis."

"What does _that_mean?"

"Eeeuuuuu…"

The two men looked to where Georgia was situated between both of their hands. Her face was a bit red from how tense she became all of a sudden, tiny hands curling and uncurling. She let out a few puffs of air every now and then as if she were previously holding her breath from trying to do… something.

"What the heck is she doing?"

Ellis didn't answer the conman straight away, just as confused at the baby's strange behavior, but he didn't need to once that familiar odor hit their nostrils.

"Uhh, I think that answers yer question."

The gambler wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Yeah… unfortunately."

"We better find a place to change her," Ellis sighed and lifted the baby girl up to his chest so that she was looking out over his shoulder. He knew that Nick wouldn't want her now that she'd dropped a bomb.

Nick watched the mechanic's retreating form for a few seconds before arching his back to get all the kinks out of it from carrying the baby. With a tired sigh of his own, he followed his comrade to wherever he had decided would be a good changing station.

They had found a secluded spot in one of the city's parks about two streets down from Clayton. Nick scouted the area for infected and exterminated the ones he happened to come across with Ellis' frying pan. He had left the rifle with the mechanic in case he and Georgia needed it while he was away.

Nick heard the hacking cough of a Smoker nearby and didn't get the chance to pinpoint where it was until he felt it's slimy tentacle-like tongue wrap around his upper body. He fell onto his back with a _thump_, wincing as the bruise he had there connected with the uneven gravel walkway. The special proceeded to pull it's victim up into the tree it had concealed itself in, which was only about ten feet away from the conman. Instead of calling for help like any other survivor would do, Nick looked around for something to cut the tongue with seeing as a skillet wan't going to do much. Sunlight bounced off of something shiny on the gambler's thigh, temporarily blinding him during his struggle, and he mentally smacked himself when the knife he had taken from the apartments earlier came into view.

The Smoker was already pulling Nick up into the canopy of the tree when it felt something slice into it's tongue, causing the prey to escape it's grasp. The conman discarded the left over tongue loosely draped around his shoulders and whipped around to face his opponent. Before the Smoker could make for it's retreat, Nick held up the single pistol he borrowed from Ellis and took out the special with ten or more rapid-fire shots (or so it seemed by how fast Nick's trigger-happy fingers were releasing the bullets.) The Smoker slumped over and fell out of the tree on the other side, it's now flaccid tongue following limply after. Nick rolled his shoulders and spat at the ground to get the smokey taste out of his mouth before approaching his kill.

"If it weren't for those damn Tanks, you guys would definitely make the top spot on my hit list," he said with a humorless laugh, which soon turned into a few agonizing coughs. The cloud of green smoke made it too difficult for the conman to get any closer, so he kept his distance and studied the tumor-riddled face of the special from where he was. Nick was thankful that he was somehow immune to the infection's effects, otherwise there was a good chance he'd turn into one of those long-tongued freaks.

The smoke was clearing, and he was about to head back to where Ellis and Georgia were when he saw something poking out from the other side of the tree. The gambler took a few cautious steps toward the object and was able to make out what looked like a bright blue box of…

"Bullets?"

And entire pile of ammo was just piled against the trunk of the tree, free for the taking. The corner of Nick's mouth lifted up in a smirk as he bent down to see what kind of ammunition was offered. There were your standard pistol bullets, and some heavy duty ones for a couple types of rifles, as well as a few shotguns shells. Nick briefly thought of how excited Ellis would be if he were here right now, and how excited he _will_be when he took all of this ammo back to their spot.

"Looks like Christmas came early this year," he smiled.

Back at one of the park benches, Ellis had just finished changing Georgia for the hundredth time that day, throwing the dirty diaper into one of the trash receptacles. He noticed when grabbing the clean diaper out of the baby bag that they were running fairly low on their supply, with only six or seven left total. That would probably be enough to last a day and a half at most, which wasn't going to suffice. There was no way Nick would allow them to carry around a diaper-less baby unless they wanted her excrements all down their backs. Ellis made a note in his head to mention visiting a shopping center after the conman got back.

"Man, where is he? Shouldn' take that long to pop off a few zombies out here." A warm wave of anxiety rolled through the boy's body. The possibility that his companion was in some sort of trouble was not absent from his mind. For the past couple of minutes he'd been hearing the distant crack of his skillet and occasional firing of the one pistil they had, but now the only thing making noise was the whisper of wind sifting through the trees lined along the parkway path. The silence was rudely interrupted, though, when a snarling infected came barreling towards he and Georgia, her arms pinwheeling as if they were detached from their sockets.

With little to no effort, Ellis raised Nick's rifle and shot the girl's leg out from under her. This wasn't enough, apparently, as she used her arms to drag herself closer to her victims despite the obvious amputation she had received. The mechanic's expression flicked to one of horror before double tapping her in the head, just like Nick had demonstrated earlier. Once he was sure the infected woman was dead, a shiver crawled up Elli's spine. He couldn't believe how driven then things were just to kill off one survivor, or one and a half in this case. Ellis had never shown an interest in science or medicine, but he would _love_to figure out how the unique symptom of "blind rage" manifests itself in the infected.

His ears perked up at a rustling sound coming from the bushes behind their bench, and he quickly swiveled his gun towards…

"Woah, woah, woah! It's me, Ellis!"

"Nick!" The boy lowered his weapon and let out a strained breath. "Damn, I almost shot yew!"

"Yeah! Jumpy much?" The conman brushed off a few leaves and twigs that had caught onto his suit while climbing the rest of the way out of the thicket.

"Well yew should know better n' to sneak up from behind like that! Give a guy fair warnin' next time, 'kay?"

"Okay, okay! Jeez, sorry." Nick straightened his suit lapels and took a stance in front of the bench. "And here I thought I'd surprise you with a little something when I got back, but since you've just been surprised…"

"Huh? What'dya mean?" The mechanic's interest had been thoroughly peaked.

Nick smirked while reaching into his bulging pockets and pulling out their contents. "Happy Hanukkah, Overalls," he joked. The boy's face morphed into that devious smile he always had when discovering a new "toy" he could use against the zombies.

"Oh, HELL yes," he exclaimed, immediately grabbing a box of AK-47 rounds. "Where'd yew find all of these?"

"Well, if it weren't for the Smoker that nearly got me, I wouldn't have. I think it was using the ammo as bait for when survivors pass by, that cunning bastard…"

"A Smoker? How'd you manage to get yerself outta _that_ one," Ellis asked with mildly impressed.

Nick shrugged. "I have my ways." It was fun to let the kid think he was some sort of badass magician.

"Wow, this is great!" Ellis marveled at the different kinds of ammo his companion had brought back. As long as we don't run into any Tanks, this should hold us for a couple days at least."

"Hey, don't jinx us, kid," Nick said pointing an accusatory finger at him. "A Tank is the last thing we need with a baby on board."

"Oh yeah, about that…" Ellis breeched the subject with a delicacy that he hoped would quell the conman's reaction.

Nick finished reloading his gun with a distinct click that sounded more like a death toll than anything. "What?"

"We're kinda sorta runnin' out of diapers."

Somehow, Nick knew this issue would come up sooner or later, and he let out a frustrated sigh as soon as those words left the kid's mouth. "Perfect." He jerked his head the other way and scoffed. "I'm not surprised considering how many shits she takes a day. She's like a goddamn factory!"

"Nick, there's no need to get all upset about it. We just gotta find a grocery store and pick up s'more."

"You say that like it's a trip to Kiddie Land," Nick shook his head. "We don't have time to be sidetracked. Coach and Rochelle aren't too far ahead and we're gonna lose a lot of ground between us if we waste time shopping for Miss Gerber Baby here."

Georgia cooed while moving her jaw up and down, coming out as a repetitive stream of "ya ya ya".

"Well, unless yew want to carry her around half naked and covered in her own filth, then I don' see any other option here."

"I _know_that!"

Ellis quirked one eyebrow. "Then why're yew whinin' about it?"

"_Because!_Let's go," Nick barked, rather abruptly.

This time, both of the mechanic's eyebrows went up, mouth slightly open and utterly stupefied by the conman's odd behavior. His pupils shifted from Georgia back to Nick, wondering what the hell had gotten into his fellow survivor. That was it? Just up and go? The gambler didn't put up as big of a fight as Ellis thought he would.

"Hey, Daddy Daycare! You coming?"

The boy looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth instead and shrugged, rising from his perch on the bench with Georgia nestled back in her baby sling. He caught up with the conman and peered at him from the corner of his eye to see Nick's current expression. He wasn't happy, obviously, but at least he consented to the task, and that was really all Ellis could ask for.

"Thanks, Nick."

"Mmgrh."

They continued to walk a few more blocks, breaking in the new rifle and pistol rounds they got when a few infected stumbled their way, and, boy, did it ever make them feel good! Having a fully loaded gun along with ample ammo replacements was one of the most satisfying things a survivor could ever hope for. Now all they had to do was make it last until they came across another safe room, or their teammates.

Ellis still only used one of his pistols though, keeping the other tucked away in case they truly needed it later on. Normally, he wouldn't have the tact to think about doing this, but Nick had taught him a thing or two about conserving supplies and making the best of what they had in the zombie apocalypse. The conman noticed this change in his partner and was glad that some of his own perception had rubbed off onto the boy - God knows he needed it from the way he was blowing up every gas tank he saw when they first started out.

A severely tattooed infected came lunging towards the gambler from his blind spot, tripping the last minute and clamping a greasy hand onto the white of his pant leg. Nick kicked his attacker off as if he were electrocuted and returned the crude gesture with two well placed bullets.

The hiss that sizzled through the conman's teeth didn't go unnoticed by Ellis, the mechanic making eye contact with the back of his comrade's slicked-back hair before looking down at the leg he was so gingerly lifting to examine.

"Did it get ya?"

Nick immediately put his leg back down as if almost forgetting that he wasn't alone. "Naw. It just… got my pants dirty."

"No offense, Nick, but yer entire suit is kinda on the dirty side," Ellis chuckled.

"Well I'd rather not get it dirtier than it already is, thank you." The conman's tone was a bit tight, and it made the boy suspicious. Nick had a tendency to hide the fact he was in pain or needed help from anyone, and Ellis had picked up on this habit enough to keep the man from keeling over later in their travels by aiding him or giving him a bottle of pills, whether he wanted help or not.

His intuition happened to be dead on when he saw a few red patches on his pant leg start to swell.

"Yer bleedin'…"

Nick looked down at his leg as if it weren't a big deal. "Oh. Yeah, it is. Guess the Witch wound reopened."

"Shit, that ain't good. Why don'tchu let me fix that up right quick?" Ellis asked while setting down the baby bag.

"With what? We have no more gauze, kid. It's just gonna have to wait."

"You kiddin' me? The last thing we need is yew bleedin' all over the place and passin' out on us later," he said with a lopsided grin. "Now quit yer bitchin' and let me heal ya."

Nick was about to confront him with the same question from before when he saw the mechanic grab the knife from his suit-clad thigh and use it to cut off one of the kid's coverall's arm sleeves that was wrapped around his waist. It was just long enough and thick enough to make an effective compressor for his weeping injury.

"There. That oughta' keep 'til we get to a shoppin' center and raid the pharmacy section," the boy nodded and stood, brushing dirt off his knees.

"Not bad." Nick held up his leg a bit to survey the work done. "It's certainly tight enough."

"Better that than havin' it slide down yer leg while yer walkin'," Ellis reassured him.

Nick nodded. "True."

"Alrighty then! Let's get goin'. Like yew said, we're gonna have some catchin' up to do later on." Ellis slid the baby bag back onto his shoulder and waited until the conman was along side him before walking.

The burn in Nick's leg didn't slow him down too much, but it was clearly bothering him nonetheless. He tried concentrating on something else besides his wound for the time being, scanning the streets for anymore of those big burly infected, like the one that had got the jump on him. It reminded him of that one biker vigilante-looking guy they had come across on their trip across a bridge of which he couldn't remember the name. What was his name again? Franco? Fido? Nick was terrible with names sometimes. Boy, was that guy a royal pain in the-

"Hey, look!"

Nick looked to where the southerner was pointing and saw a _Shop__'n'__Go!_on the other side of the street a couple blocks up from where they were. He chanted a silent hallelujah in his head at the sight of those gaudy red letters.

"I knew we'd find one sooner or later," the boy whooped.

"Well, aren't we lucky you were born with the gift of foresight?" Nick said sarcastically.

"C'mon!" Ellis jogged up ahead a few steps before turning around to face the conman with a challenge in his eyes. "Last one there eats a cow pie!"

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_To be continued…_

_**AN:** A pretty equal amount of talking and action in this chapter. :T I tried to get Georgia more involved since I've been kind of ignoring her lately, lol, but she'll be fairly prominent in the next part, I swear. C:_

_Thank you for reading!_


	8. Part 8

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy! _: )

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_**Part 8**_

Like every over convenience store caught in the zombie apocalypse, the place was ransacked "as if a goddamn twister had ripped through here", according to Nick. The two survivors weren't terribly surprised when they saw that most of the store had been cleaned out by raiders who had come before them. Almost all of the food was missing, as well as items such as camping equipment, potential weapons, and other vital provisions needed to rough it out in the world of surging infected.

The isles, instead of riddled with trash and leftover objects, were almost obstacle-free much to the conman's delight and dismay. On the one hand, it left a good amount of room for him to walk around in, yet it only proved how desperate everyone was for them to have taken the last can or box of this and that product, regardless of whether it had been lying on the floor for weeks. The only food Nick saw on the grimy white tile was a single potato chip. The rest was either stolen, or, and he shuddered at the thought… eaten.

While on the floor.

"No thanks. Already had my fill of junk food back at the bowling alley," the gambler muttered as he passed the lone chip by.

Georgia squirmed in his arms, wrenching her head around to see what the view was like behind her carrier. Nick cocked an eyebrow at the infant and shifted her to face forward again.

"Hey. Focus, kid. I don't want you acting up around me, even if we are alone in this godforsaken minimart. Jesus… that hick just _had_ to pick the sketchiest shopping center in town," the conman groaned. But, he knew they couldn't be too choosey, and this place seemed to have a few useful items left. "Why are you even with me anyway? Shouldn't you be in the diaper isle with your surrogate dad or something?"

Ellis had said he'd go look for diapers after checking the store for zombies if Nick would take the baby for a bit. He didn't even have time to object before the mechanic handed Georgia off to him and started running towards the meat and seafood section with his frying pan held high. The conman had let out a string of muffled cursing before resigning to his duties and beginning the search for food.

"Let's see… canned food, canned food… ah." Nick spotted a suspended sign with the word "canned" in the list of things that occupied the isle and headed in that direction.

He didn't have much of an idea of how a grocery store was structured since a lot of the time his "job" kept him eating out and away from whatever temporary living quarters he had made for himself, but every once in a while he'd pick up a little something from the local mart and cook in the kitchen he would normally get along with his rooms. And then, eventually, he would pack up and move on to the next town if he started getting bored of the casinos in the area, or if his luck had run dry.

…Or if he was on the run, which was more or less the case 50% of the time. It was his fault that they started really cracking down on casino security. He was barely able to make three cons in one night without being caught by some fancy new camera system, or a slick bastard like himself. Nick briefly thought that he could be losing his edge, but he logged that notion away as soon as it had surfaced and instead opted for blaming it on every other possible thing he could think of.

"Hey Nick! Did'jya find anythin'?"

Nick winced at the loud echoey voice from some isles over. Sure, they had checked to see that they were the only ones in the store, but it didn't mean he could throw a damn party about it!

Nick called back in a more subdued volume, "Assuming there's anything left _to _find! I feel like I'm on a goddamn scavenger hunt!"

"Yeah! I know what'cha mean! This reminds me of the time Keith and I came up with our own treasure huntin' idea, but instead of searchin' fer treasure we-"

"Hey hey! How about we wait until we're not fifty rows away from each other to spout off a Keith story, okay sport?"

"Okay!"

Nick let out an amused snort and kept scanning the shelves for the canned vegetables and fruit he'd been assigned to gather. Georgia gazed up at the ceiling, wondering where the familiar southern voice of her other caretaker was coming from. This made the conman let out another snort followed by a soft chuckle. These two were more entertaining than a barrel of monkeys.

As expected, canned goods were scarce not only because of raiders, but because of the panicked crowds that had poured in here beforehand to stock up for the oncoming apocalypse. There were roughly eight cans of anything left on the shelves, but it was certainly better than nothing. Nick was able to scrounge up a couple cans of peas, three cans of different types of beans, one can of sliced peaches, and two cans that had no labels on them at all for some bizarre reason. The conman took a whiff of one of the aluminum containers, waited a beat or two, and threw it in the green plastic grocery basket they'd found near the entrance of the store.

"You can never be too careful, kid," he eyed Georgia while exiting the canned goods isle, although she wasn't paying attention to him. Nick had seen all sorts of things used to carry various substances such as boomer bile or explosives wherever there was a lack of proper resources, and he didn't want to crack open an unknown can of whatever was sloshing around inside without being somewhat sure of the contents. It didn't have the gag-inducing stench of bile, or the rank odor of human excrements (which was not uncommon to find since all the non-functional toilets were usually filled to the brim with shit to the point where not even a zombie would wanna take a dump in one.) Those were the only two things Nick was really wary of, so adding the nameless cans to their stock wouldn't do any harm.

"Alright, princess. Shall we go find Uncle El?" the gambler studied his surroundings once he'd left the isle and started making his way toward the section that carried most household products and cleaning supplies.

Georgia let out a little chirp at the feel of Nick's deep voice rumbling in the chest she was held against.

On the other side of the minimart, Ellis' bandaged brow worked wrinkles into the space between his eyes. One of his steel-toed boots tapped nervously against the floor like it used to when he was in school, running his brain ragged for the answer he was sure he'd gone over in his text book the night before. This time, however, the subject was over child care, sub-section: diapers.

There were so many different brands that it overwhelmed the poor southerner's one-track mind. Some packages had pictures of happy-go-lucky babies on it, others displayed the cute little patterns on the diapers, and each of them described the benefits of purchasing their specialized product. Why couldn't there just be one simple diaper that everyone bought and be done with it?

"Man oh man! I don' know how Ma _did _it," he mumbled to himself, crossing his arms and bringing one hand up to his chin thoughtfully. As he compared one package of Huggies with another name brand, Nick rounded the corner with Georgia in tow and a basket-full of perfectly preserved food.

"I think I'm gonna turn vegan from eating all this greenery," Nick accentuated with a hoist of his basket.

"Oh, hey! Yew find some stuff?" Ellis welcomed the distraction, especially since it involved food.

"Yup. Peas, beans, peaches, and mystery meat," the conman wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Mystery meat? How'dya know it ain't spoiled?"

"I don't. We'll just have to see when we open it. Could be just another fuckin' can of peas for all I know."

"Hm." Ellis' mouth quirked to the side, not too fond of the prospect.

"I see you've found the diapers." Nick stared at the impressive wall of packages, bewildered by the sheer number of them that were still left. "I guess these are kind of low on the priority list for a zombie apocalypse."

"Yeah, and fer the life of me I cannot figure out which one to get. They all look exactly the same to me!" Ellis threw out his hands at the shelves in a huff, the gesture making his pants slip down slightly. He tightened the coveralls around his waist as best he could considering that one of the arms was currently tied around his partner's leg.

"Your talking to the wrong person for that sort of thing, dude," Nick shook his head. "Can't you just get the ones she already has?"

"They don't have it here. I checked," the boy said irritatedly while pointing to the exposed diaper package in their open baby bag.

"Fine, then just get this one." With Georgia still wrapped in one arm, he set down the basket and used his one free appendage to pick out a Huggies package that said something about "DOUBLE LEAK PROTECTION", shoving it into Ellis' hands.

"Huh? Why this one?"

"Does it matter? All I know is that "leak protection" sounds like a good thing, and anything that's "doubled" is also a good thing. Can't argue with that now, can you?" Nick walks off toward the front of the store, baffled by how the kid could take such a simple task and turn it into the world's most complicated word problem.

"R-right. Okay then." Ellis shrugs and stuffs the new diapers into the baby bag, catching up to his companion near the fruit and vegetable area that stretched out towards the registers. On their way, Ellis' eye caught a flicker of black to his left and glanced to see what it was. A bird was perched on top of a lone potato, pecking at it every now and then in the twitchy way that most birds do. The poor spud was still in one piece, although it wouldn't be for long with that sharp black beak penetrating the thin outer skin.

"Go on! 'Git!" Ellis went over and shooed the creature off with a few swipes of his hands. The bird cawed at the intruder and flapped away, irritated by the impromptu interruption.

Nick heard the mechanic squawk from behind him, "Nick! Check it out!" The conman turned but didn't move from his spot, waiting for Ellis to continue. "It's a potato!" He held up the lumpy brown tuber.

"Uh, yeah. Good for you. Passing the first grade must've been quite an achievement for you."

"HAW. I'm _sayin' _ we can use it with the rest of our food tonight!"

"Ugh, what the fuck is it with potatoes these past few days?" He grimaces while thinking of all the potato chips and frozen t.v. dinner mashed potatoes he's had up to this point.

"They last a looooong time, Nick. That's what makes'em so valuable. I know because I studied up on'em fer a project I was doin' in sixth grade."

"Wow, you actually got that far?"

Ellis promptly ignores Nick's jeering. "Keith 'n I were makin' a potato launcher fer physics. We got it workin', too!"

Nick wondered why one would need to study up on potatoes when all you were doing was shooting them into people's backyards, but he didn't bother asking. "I'm sure the teacher passed you with flying colors for that one."

"Well, actually, we ended up doin' a different project later on 'cuz the launcher backfired 'n sent a potato right into Keith's face," he guffawed at the memory. "It was purty funny until we found out he'd broken his nose in four places."

"I bet," Nick snorted. "Alright. Throw it in the pile, I guess."

Ellis grinned and tossed the tuber into the basket Nick was still holding. "Wouldn' it be great if we could fry up that baby?"

"Yeah, keep dreamin', kid. Unless we find a working kitchen, that possibility is pretty far off," The gambler sighed while trudging over to the registers.

"I remember my ma's homemade fried 'taters… mmmm-mm~! They were so good!"

Nick chuckled at the southern-slathered accent of the word "taters". "I'm sure they tasted pretty good."

"Oh, more than just good, man. Even a city slicker like yew would love my mama's cookin', Nick."

"Hey, I ain't arguing," he shrugged and approaches one of the cash registers. It popped open with a simple click of a button. The conman cursed when he saw nothing but a few left over pennies and dimes scattered within the compartment.

Ellis scoffed, "Nick, it ain't my business er nothin', but what would yew do if'n there was any cash left in one o' them things? I don't see no point to it, really."

Begrudgingly, Nick closed the spring-loaded drawer and went to check the other registers. "In case you don't know, overalls, money is a pretty good bargaining chip."

"But I thought yew said that weapons are what people're after these days?"

The ring of another cash registers taps their eardrums. "That, too, but say you need a refill on ammo or other shit. Turns out someone else has got'em and they want payment in return, but they have all the weapons they need. So what're you supposed to give them?"

"Oh. I guess that's a good point," Ellis nods to himself.

"I'd give them cards if I had any, but a lot of good _those _will do us now."

"Cards? You mean, like, playin' cards?"

"Ha! I wish. _Credit _cards, sport."

"Credit cards?"

"What're you, a broken record? Yes, credit cards! Or do yer kind not use'em 'round these parts?" Nick mocked in a thick hillbilly accent.

"You don't have any?"

"No, I don't."

Ellis scratched at his side but recoiled after remembering how sore it was. "Well, shoot… I always figured yew'd have some considerin'-" The conman spoke up before he could finish his thought, no doubt something about how much he had a fixation for money and the like.

"Think about it, Ellis. A guy like me, traveling from casino to casino, swindling complete maroons out of their wallets, not to mention my… _healthy_ relationship with the boys in blue." He moved effortlessly through the next few registers, Ellis strolling along with him as they talked.

The boy's mouth opened in realization. "Well, yew _did_ mention when I first met'chu that yew weren't allowed to own a firearm."

"Exactly," Nick responded, glad he and the kid were finally coming to an understanding. "Now, can you imagine what would happen if I used a credit card everywhere I went? What do you think would come of that?"

"Ooooo, them coppers would hunt yew down in a split second!" Ellis hollered, shaking his head. "I seen stuff like that in a lot of the movies my buddies and I used to watch."

The gambler gave his companion a small "well done" smirk, refraining from verbally admitting to the ugly rap sheet he'd compiled over the years. However, his snarky smile quickly dissolved into a frown when he saw that the last register he opened gave him the same verdict as all the others: empty. "I used to have cash for everything and anything I ever wanted. My winning streaks would last from dusk 'till dawn, I tell ya. Now," he slams the drawer back into place, the bell inside the register dinging in protest at the forcefulness, "I'm broker than an eight-hundred pound hooker."

Ellis chuckled at the choice of words. "Well, like yew said, a lot of good that'll do us now, right?"

"Yeah, but still…" Nick wrung a hand around the back of his neck, rubbing at the small knot he had there.

"Alright now, quit mopin'. We gotta catch up with Coach and Ro, don't we? Here…" Ellis grabbed two plastic bags near one of the registers where he deposited their finds and placed them into the baby bag. "Okay! Ready?"

"Sure, just give me a minute," Nick said while pulling out his silver flask to take a swig of water. He grunted as his tongue met with only a few solitary drops. "Shit. We're out."

"I'll go check n' see if there's any water bottles 'round here," the boy maneuvered himself around the registers and headed towards the isle that held an assortment of different drinks. He heard Nick's footsteps join his own and turned to address him. "You can stay here if ya want. I was just gonna take a quick look n' come back..."

"And leave me here all by my lonesome?" Nick joked. "Besides, we didn't really scope out that part of the store yet. Don't want you getting snagged by a Smoker where I can't see it."

"Oh, Okay! Thanks, man." Ellis smiled, touched by his older companion's concern, even if it wasn't the most visible to the naked eye.

"Just lend me your sling," he said while holding out his one free arm. "This brat is heavier than she looks."

"Sure thing." The makeshift baby sash was lifted from his torso and handed to Nick who positioned it how he liked and made sure Georgia was adequately secured. Some of her drool got on the conman's sleeve during the process, and he sneered while rubbing to substance onto his pant leg. But, seriously, what was the point?

They came across all kinds of sugary sweet fruit drinks and a few cases of soda (although the Coca Cola had been completely wiped out because of how popular it was even during the apocalypse), but no water. The shelf that used to hold all of the bottles and gallon-sized jugs were barren with nothing but a light film of dust occupying the metal surface. Nick stared ruefully at the clean imprints of where a case of bottled water used to reside.

"Tch. Of course. I don't know why I even bothered." The conman administered small circling motions with his thumb and index finger into his eyebrows. How ironic would it be if his current headache was a result of dehydration?

"Man, that sucks," Ellis said lowly, sounding less than surprised. "Guess we got here too late."

"No shit, sherlock." The bite of his words made the boy cringe a bit. Nick always seemed to be stuck in a never ending hurricane of his own bad mood, but being cranky _and _tired was probably the worst combo for the guy.

"We could always check the back. Maybe they still have some in stock?"

"Fine. Why not?" The gambler had all but given up on the endeavor of finding water by now, but what was one more inspection?

They eventually found two swinging doors that had "EMPLOYEES ONLY" stamped on the front and made their way inside. It was pretty dark since they had drifted further and further away from the front of the store where the only source of light was leaking in, so they switched on the flashlights attached to their pistols and tread carefully through the large racks of packaged products. There wasn't as much stock as there should have been, thanks to the raiders no doubt, but at least it made the search easier on them.

Nick took the left side of the room where he came upon a number of boxes, both sealed and unsealed, stacked high up to the top shelves of the metal racks.

"Wonderful. Like finding hay in a needle stack," he muttered. Georgia shifting against his back, confused as to why it was so dark all of a sudden, but she didn't seem phased by the change in atmosphere, unlike her caretakers. "Yeah, if you could keep an eye on my backside, kid, that'd great." Nick's playful jest was not so much for entertaining the baby than to make himself feel better within the pitch black unknown of the _Shop 'n' Go! _ stock room. Neither he nor Ellis had thought to check out this part of the store before they went "shopping", and their obliviousness would have given whatever might be in here the time to get the jump on them. The hairs on Nick's neck prickled at the thought of there being a sleeping Tank lying in wait for the two unsuspecting survivors, assuming those burly beasts ever slept.

Ellis was on the other end of the room checking out a few of the boxes and their labels in short, swift motions, immediately training his light back to the isle after each one. He was just as anxious about finding something didn't want to be found, but, if they were quick enough, perhaps they could blow the joint early and get back on the road again.

"On the road again~. Just can't wait to get back on the road again~." The boy sung to himself quietly, probably the softest he'd ever sung in his life.

When fear wormed it's way into his head, Ellis would busy his lips with a tune he could whistle to, or a song he'd often hear his mama sing. It gave him great comfort to bring a bit of home to the surface of his thoughts every once in a while, especially when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. There were times in his plights with the zombies where he felt he may be meeting his maker sooner than he'd planned, but, then again, who could _plan _the day they died? For the twenty-three year old, even if he didn't get to choose the exact hour, minute and second he left this world, you could be damn sure that he'd be the one to dictate _how. _Ellis, like many other young, hot-headed survivors out there, wanted to go out in style, whether it be with a bang or in flames. He envisioned it being like one of the Midnight Rider's concerts - fire shooting up in white hot columns, splashes of color popping off one after another in the dark night sky…

It would be _epic._

"Shit!" Ellis cursed as he jerked his body away from the ghostly tendrils that brushed against the side of his face. He directed the flashlight at whatever had startled him and let his body sag with relief when he saw the head of an old-fashioned mop sticking out from the shelf it had been placed on. "C'mon, El. Get a damn grip on yerself." He rolled his shoulders once to shake off the lingering adrenaline that had been injected into his system from the scare, and kept moving down the isle.

Everything the mechanic had come across so far wouldn't have been very useful in hindsight. There was an abundance of cleaning supplies, bed and bath articles, and some nonperishable food like ramen and more canned products. Ellis only added two more cans to their pile since anymore would've made the baby bag heavier than he'd want it to be. He gave a small smile when he saw the Campbell's logo. It'd been a while since they'd had soup. It'd be cold, but hell if he was complaining.

The next isle held sporting goods, and Ellis could hardly contain the happy little gasp that escaped him. A lot of the equipment had been torn open and strewn across the floor. It was no question as to why, seeing as most weapons people had all came from this department, specifically melee. The southerner wasted no time in rummaging through the remains of athletic items, finding numerous soccer, basketball, and fishing related objects, but nothing that would hold it's own against the hardened skull of an infected. Wide eyes carefully roamed the shelves for what they were originally looking for, and a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of Ellis' stomach when he didn't see it right away. A few more steps down the isle, though, and his vision locked on to the sturdy wooden baseball bat wedged between two unopened boxes.

"Yes!" he hissed, grabbing the club by it's barrel and flipped it around to test his grip against the smooth laminated maple.

It was in perfect condition, new and unused; something the boy could really work with. He held the weapon up and did a few practice swings, already falling in love with it's lightweight yet powerful follow-through. It would put his frying pan to shame against those zombies.

"Sweet!"

Ellis jogged from isle to isle looking for his partner, shining a light down each alley to see if he could catch a glimpse of the man's less than white suit. He was excited to show Nick his new toy, even if it wasn't the water bottles they were looking for. Perhaps the conman had found some instead? He sure hoped so. His mouth was getting pretty dry from all the footwork they'd put in today.

Fortunately, for the three of them, Nick had come across a package of Dasani in a section where a lot of the snack foods were kept, as well as some other useful items they might need later. With a triumphant smile, Nick put two of the bottles in his roomy pant pockets, and two more in the inside pockets of his jacket, leaving two left on the shelves. In the beginning, Nick had taken every possible resource he could get his hands on, but, by the example of his team mates, he would now leave a few supplies for other passing survivors who happened to come through these parts. He figured that if one person stopped doing it, everyone else would too, and then where would they be? No one wanted to arrive at a safe house and end up leaving with nothing.

He twisted the cap off of one of the bottles and took a few quick gulps just to wet his mouth. The water was only room temperature, but Nick didn't give a flying fuck at this point. Water is water is water, even if it was Dasani. At least it was clean.

He looked around the snack isle one more time to see if he wanted anything else from the contents of the open boxes, but didn't bother being thorough since he'd gotten what they came for. He rounded the corner of the isle near the back of the storage room to track down his younger comrade, thinking how fun it'd be to sneak up on the kid and give him a bit of a fright.

Ellis was still patrolling the isles for Nick and Georgia, illuminating each walkway for about half a second, and was about to migrate to the next batch of isles parallel to these when his flashlight caught a sliver of the white he was searching for kneeling by one of the shelves in a row full of splayed clothing. Sweaters, jeans, t-shirts, winter coats - all were thrown about in messy piles like some kind of dump heap. Most of the boxes in this area were empty and had been forced to join it's contents on the floor, a clear sign that looters had ransacked the place in hopes of finding clean clothes to take with them. It felt wrong for Ellis to think of them as looters, though, seeing as he and his group were basically doing the same thing to every convenience store they came across. Perhaps they should just stick with the term "survivors" instead?

"Nick! Good thing I found yew. Man, this place is bigger n' I ever gave it credit fer, ha ha! Did'ja find anythin'? All I got was a baseball bat, but it's a damn good one, I tell ya. Fits me like a glove!" he exclaimed while swinging it in a windmill motion. He was rather elated to have finished what he was saying without Nick cutting him off, but soon realized that such a rare opportunity was kind of odd. He took a moment to study the conman, questions forming on the tip of his tongue as to why the guy was hunched over next to a shelf of men's underwear, and why he wasn't responding. The slick dark head seemed to be rocking back and forth with his body, and Ellis' immediate assumption was that the man was hurt.

"Oh hey, man, yew alright? Is it yer leg again? I grabbed some new bandages n' pills n' shit if ya need'em."

He approached Nick from behind and reached into Georgia's baby bag for the appropriate medicine, secretly chiding the conman in his head for not seeking his help, as per usual. It was the moment he laid eyes on the bag when a little jolt shot up the back of his neck, and his voice, filled with dread, cut through the tension that had been building between them once he saw the vacant space on his partner's back.

"Uhh… where's Georgia?"

Nick's head twitched when he heard the younger voice so near him, and a shaky groan rose from his lips, growing into a crescendo. He turned to make eye contact with Ellis, worried creases marring the corners of his mouth and upper brow. The man looked like he was in shock.

"Dude, did somethin' hap-"

A few strands of greasy shoulder-length hair fell from behind Nick's ear and into his face, which finally sent a clue to Ellis that this man was definitely not his team mate.

"Woah! I'm sorry, man! I thought yew were my friend and he has a white suit too and…" Ellis laughed between his words, "Wow, I haven't seen another normal person in a loooong time! I mean, it's been, like, _ages_, ya know? Sometimes I even feel like my buddies n' I are the only survivors left, but I know it ain't true 'cuz this one time we ran into these other guys who helped us across this bridge, see? And they were immune just like us, so I figure there's gotta be others out there who-"

The man at his feet let out a ghastly wail, leaning forward in order to plant one folded leg in front of him and stand to his full height. Ellis went silent and took two steps back, wary of the man's sanity at this point. He had the right idea, too, especially when the moaning survivor turned to face Ellis in a bone-chilling garb of a mental patient. The dingy white straight jacket had been mistaken for Nick's suit, which was around the same condition otherwise.

"Oh shit…" The mechanic gasped. How a guy like this ended up in a _Shop 'n' Go! _stock room was a mystery beyond Ellis' willingness to find out, and he genuinely didn't know how to approach this situation. Being a psych ward escapee in a world full of blood thirsty zombies and throngs of dead bodies? If the guy was already off his rocker, Ellis couldn't imagine how he was faring now.

Before he could attempt any form of communication, the poor fellow stumbled back, nearly tripping over a pile of clothing, and with a sudden bout of maniacal cackling, shot off like a bat out of hell down the isle and into another section of the stock room. The change in demeanor was confusing to say the least. One second the guy looked as scared as a half-drowned rat, and the next he was the happiest man on earth.

"Uhhh… did I miss somethin'?"

Perhaps now was a good time to continue his search for Nick, who was currently strolling down the second to the last row of supplies where it met the far wall.

The gambler was about to reach the mouth of his isle when he saw a white blur speed past in a fit of deranged laughter. "What the-?" The conman's muscles all tightened at once, bringing him to an abrupt halt. The first thought that came to his mind was that a jockey was riding the back of his companion, so he shook of his stupor and sprinted around the shelves to take care of the problem.

Instead, his flashlight illuminated the hunched back of a man with stringy black hair and a white coat of some kind huddled in a corner. The belts around his waist and arms were a tad peculiar, but what the man did with his accessories were his own business, Nick figured. It was hard to tell with so little light whether the guy was infected, or if he was just plain insane. Nick wouldn't blame him, otherwise, but he kept his pistol trained on the man just in case.

"Alright, freakazoid, why don't you turn around so I can decide whether or not I need to put you under." It was a command more than a request, as was his way.

The mental patient did as Nick wanted only to see who the voice belonged to, and the conman's eyes squinted to get a better handle on the guy's features. Besides that nasty scowl on his face, and the obvious need of a shower, everything looked pretty normal.

It wasn't until the flashlight caught the ever so familiar gleam of yellow pupils were his suspicions confirmed. Nick let out an inaudible gasp.

"Yo, Nick!"

Ellis came running from behind, waving his baseball bat in the air to get his partner's attention. Nick's twisted his head around at the sound of Ellis' voice, gun lowering a fraction or two.

"Don't shoot'im! I don't think he's an infected!"

"What? Are you blind? This thing is obviously-"

It didn't take long for him to find out the truth, unfortunately, because after two ragged breaths the man opened his mouth and let out a shriek that rattled the survivors' bones to the core. It bounced off the high ceiling and every corner of the storage space like a thousand church bells, except significantly less pleasant. The "mental patient's" body shook from the exertion of screaming his lungs out, blood veins embossing his neck as if they were about to burst. The sound itself was akin to the bastard child of a Hunter and a Charger; somewhat high-pitched, but throaty and loud at the same time.

Even more astonishing was how the boys had never before seen or _heard _the likes of this particular infected.

No _common_ infected could ever sound like _that._

Ellis held his hands over his ears and stopped a few feet away from his companion. He saw the discomfort on Georgia's face through the dimly lit area, and he felt bad that the baby couldn't block out the sound on her own, so he shuffled up behind Nick and sacrificed his hearing for hers by placing his hands on the tiny infant ears. He now knew what people were talking about when they described a noise as "ear-splitting".

Nick gave himself some room between he and their new zombie pal, his firearm unflinchingly poised to take out the creature, but he did not shoot just yet. If this thing was a new infected, he wanted to see what it did - what made it so special. The straight jacket was indeed rather intimidating, as well as the blood-curdling screams, but it hadn't outright attacked since it'd laid eyes on them. If it's arms were immobilized, then what's to say there wasn't some kind of secret weapon in store for the survivors? Did it have an elongated tongue for snatching up prey? Could it spit acid? Sharp fangs? Heat vision? Or was it just gonna yell at them to death? Nick laughed at the thought.

Neither of them really expected the crazed zombie to bolt for it, disappearing behind the towering racks full of laundry detergent and other cleaning supplies.

"Ah… hey!"

"What the fuck?"

Their reactions were about the same. It was surreal, having an infected go in the opposite direction from where you were standing. They were so used to being the center of attention nowadays, it almost hurt their feelings.

Nick snorted in irritation, a bit miffed that all the pointless screaming didn't even lead up to some sort of climax in the end. "Where the hell is it going? Is there a sale somewhere that I didn't hear about?"

"He did that before when I found'im in one of the isles back there," Ellis shrugged, just as baffled. "I thought he was just some loon I might'a scared off or something. Didn't mean to, really. He looked more human than the others, but it was kinda hard to see and all…" The shrieking continued even after a good amount of distance had been laid out between the zombie and themselves.

Nick held his hands up in mock defense. "Well, far be it from me to crash his pity party any more than you already have. Damn, that screaming is fucking annoyi-"

A chorus of howls and moans could be heard from outside the minimart, sending a cold spike down their vertebrae. The two survivors looked in the direction of where their exit out of the storage room would be, heartbeats picking up the pace their psych ward zombie left behind.

If there was one thing worse than that thing's screeching…

"Aw, tits."

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_To be continued…_

_**AN:** SCREAMER, Y U SUMMON HORDE? Lawl, bet ya didn't think he'd be making an appearance in here, huh? ;) I wish his concept had been accepted for the game, but at least I get to bring him to life through my fic. So yeah… Portal references are fun. 3_

_**ALSO, I JUST WANNA CLARIFY THIS: **I don't know why the italicized words in my story are clumping together with the word next to it. It's not like you can't tell what it says otherwise (b/c it's still italicized), but I didn't want you guys to think I was forgetting to put a space there or something. It's either my word document that's doing something wonky, or . Idk! : \_

_Thank you for reading!_


	9. Part 9

_**AN:**__ Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title:__ Mess-Maker_

_Pairing:__ Nick X Ellis_

_Rating:__ M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre:__ Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis:__ Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of the wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy! _: )

_**~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::~::**_

_**Part 9**_

Ellis came to that T-shaped intersection again. Apparently, the path didn't lead to anywhere else and turning back around didn't seem like an option for whatever reason. Granted, it was easier to follow a walkway that's been laid out for you, even though he hadn't a firm idea where it'd end up spitting him out.

He was tempted to continue down the alley stretched before him, but remembered that there was something intriguing in the way he'd taken last time, so he chose left.

The last time? Had he been here before?

. . .

Everything was pretty much the same; foggy, desolate, and creepy as all get out. Ellis' anxiety only grew when he saw the fuzzy shadow a few yards down the alley. He squinted and forced his vision to focus on the shape of the blur, able to make out what looked like a head and two legs.

Another person! The mechanic felt overjoyed knowing that he wasn't the only one lost in this accursed city.

"Hey there!" he called out, flinching a bit when he realized how loud his voice sounded through all the bitter silence. "Aw man, yew have no idea how glad I am to see another human being 'round these parts. R'yew lost, too?"

Once the fog had thinned between them, Ellis could make out the person's dark, slicked back hair and a bright blue shirt popping out from underneath the stark white suit that almost made him invisible in their surroundings. He saw those eyes staring straight back at him, along with a face he'd almost forgotten. But wait… how could he have forgotten one of his own team mates?

"… Nick?"

"Hey, Ellis."

It was weird for the man to use his full name out of the blue like that, but Ellis dismissed the oddity for now. "Nick, what's goin' on here? Where are we? And… where is everybody?"

The con man sported a peaceful smile that was very unlike his character. "You always were such a chatterbox."

"Huh…?"

"It's okay," he said before the boy could ask why he was acting so out of character. "We won't need anything for where we're going."

"Where we're… what'dya mean?" The mechanic's expression turned to one of confusion. He didn't like the way his companion was behaving, not one bit. The guy was smiling, yes, but he sounded so… defeated.

"Ellis." Nick uttered the mechanic's name in the softest of voices.

"Yeah, Nick?" He kind of liked how his name sounded in that rumbly voice.

"Ellis."

"…?"

"Ellis. Ellis. Elli-"

_"UUAAAAEEEHHHHH~!"_

"ELLIS! Wake up before I use the baby as my personal hacky sack."

The sound of Nick's voice was muted by another more grating noise that constantly buzzed against the boy's eardrums; It definitely wasn't a pleasant thing to wake up to. Ellis rubbed his eyes, the rest of his face scrunching up along with every muscle in his body for a quick, gratifying stretch. Once his vision had cleared up, the features on Nick's face were much more prominent, as well as the sour scowl he was wearing.

At least this time he wasn't waking up to the sound of an alarm blaring in the background. Georgia, however, was quite upset. It registered in Ellis' mind after a few bleary seconds that their little bundle of joy was crying her wee hazel eyes out on the table they had placed her.

It was another rough night on the floor for the three survivors as it turned out, but nothing they weren't used to. As for their location, neither of them had a clue. They'd ran through the nearest back door during their last grand adventure with the infected in some intertwined alleys that connected behind a handful of small businesses. It was either that or be chased down to the ends of the earth.

The boys' escape from the _Shop 'n' Go! _was less than a graceful endeavor, albeit successful to a fault. The far off cry of an approaching horde spurred them into action and sent them practically flying from where they stood to the storage room exit. It was too late, however, because the zombies were already breaking through the glass of the dysfunctional automatic doors at the front of the store. So, instead, they were forced to search for another way out, which pleasantly present itself when Nick caught the soft red glow of an emergence "EXIT" sign a few aisles down.

They fled the scene by the skin of their teeth as fifty or so infected came careening towards them from the stock room doors. Thankfully, their EXIT wasn't locked or alarmed, and they sprinted down the back alley in the opposite direction of the street where even more infected were spawning. Just when Ellis thought they might be zombie chow, Nick had thrown a molotov over his shoulder and set fire to the trail behind them, effectively killing off a majority of the infected that had been breathing down their necks with the intent of taking a chunk out of the retreating survivors with their yellowed teeth.

_"Where the heck… huff… did ya get a… huff... molotov?"_

_"Grabbed some empty beer bottles from the store… huff… some rubbing alcohol and rags… huff… and conducted my own little science experiment… huff… now shut up and keep running!"_

Nick didn't need to explain the whole molotov construction process if he was so concerned about saving his breath, but the guy was rather proud of himself for having whipped one up and actually using it to save their asses, so a little gloating was in order.

After their little action-packed chase scene of jumping over fallen dumpsters and ducking through more alley ways, the boys had come to their final destination, or at least a place to stay until they resumed travel in the morning. It looked like some sort of filing room, stuffed to the brim with cabinets, bookshelves and manilla folders containing unknown documents. They didn't dwell on their decor too much and quickly formed a barricade with as many boxes as they could find, which were not in short supply as it seemed. Those, too, were probably full of sheets upon sheets of the same paper sticking out of every crevice of their temporary safe room.

Nick had taken a seat in one of the chairs pressed up against the make-shift fortress, mindful of the child he had strapped to his back. He rested his elbows on his knees and finally allowed himself to take back some much needed oxygen. Ellis did the same and slid down to the floor against one of the filing shelves, eyes closed and head leaning back. He removed his hat to expose the perspiration on his brow and relished the cool flow of air that hit him. When the silence had fully settled into their surroundings, the two survivors looked at each other simultaneously and began to laugh.

Too bad that moment was long gone.

"It won't stop!"

Ellis yawned once and moseyed on over to the table where little Georgia was crying. He wanted to make a comment about how Nick's yelling was just going to make matters worse, but figured tending to the infant was more important.

"How'd she get all worked up?" he asked lazily.

"All I fucking did was feed her! You'd think the little twerp would be grateful or something, not crying a river."

Ellis picked her up, setting one hand underneath her diaper and the other on her back. "Well, what'd yew feed her?"

"Oh, you know, left over lighter fluid, some chlorine- what do you THINK I fed her? The same nasty crap we've been giving her since day one of our babysitting hell!"

If Ellis didn't know any better, he'd say Nick was throwing a bigger tantrum than the baby. "What'dja do after ya fed her?"

"I rocked her so that she'd go to sleep or whatever since that usually seems to do the trick in all those fucking movies, and then she started with the waterworks. I honestly don't know what I did wrong here." He held up his hands and turned away to massage his temples with his thumb and forefinger. The constant wailing was grating on his last nerve.

"Did ya burp her?"

Nick paused for a couple seconds, thinking the question over in his head for bit before facing his companion once more with a disbelieving look on his face. "You're telling me that's what's wrong?"

"Well, yeah! Babies can't burp on their own, man - that's why they need us to help'em out. It can get purdy uncomfortable if the gas don't got no way of comin' out. It's like indigestion, ya know?"

"Tch. I learned how to _belch_ when I was fucking five."

"Georgia's less than a year old, Nick, so quit bitchin' n' c'emere."

Apparently, Nick wasn't the only one who was cranky, then again, no one liked being woken up during an interesting part of a dream. Ellis had wanted to hear what more dream-Nick had to say, but perhaps, if he was lucky, they could continue their dialogue on another night.

Grumbling, Nick approached the boy, not quite sure what he was needed for at this point, until Ellis plopped the baby into his arms and sat back on the table.

"Burp her."

"Me? Isn't that your job, Uncle Ellis?"

"Look, Nick, there might be a time when some Charger, or Witch, or whatever comes outta nowhere and injures my burpin' arm-" Nick snickered at the mechanic's odd term, but Ellis didn't break in his speech, "- and _yer _gonna have to be the one who changes her, burps her, and feeds her most of the time. So ya might as well learn how to do this stuff now instead of bein' a total greenhorn at it later on."

"Who says there's gonna be a 'later on'?" the conman raised one skeptical eyebrow.

"Well, if ya haven't thrown her in a dumpster by now, then I reckon we're keepin' her fer the long run."

Ellis was right, and Nick knew it. His intention of abandoning the kid had long since past, so there wasn't much more he could do but keep his only two team mates, and himself, alive until they regrouped with Coach and Rochelle.

IF they ever regrouped. Oh boy, would the others be surprised to see what new baggage they'd found...

With a resigned sigh, Nick muttered a "fine", and proceeded to gently pat Georgia's back.

As he did this, Ellis took a moment to look around and see where exactly they'd ended up since he didn't think he'd be able to go back to sleep. He began by picking out a random manilla folder jammed in-between similar documents on one of the shelves. Due to how tightly they were all smushed together, pulling out one thing sent a dozen more toppling to the floor. Ellis squinted at the black writing printed on all of the pieces of paper that had fallen out, and bent down to get a better look. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he realized that all the writing wasn't actually writing at all, but music notes. He held a few pages in his hands and skimmed the sheet music from it's beginning key signature to the double bars at the finish. This one was a classical piece for piano, but as he perused through the rest of the scattered documents, more instrument names started popping up. Violin, percussion, guitar, even saxophone quartets! It was apparent by now that the two survivors had wound up in some kind of a music store.

Ellis had a gleam in his eye when he rose back to eye level height, immediately running through the door that led into the main part of the building. Nick barely had time to say anything before he saw the boy rush past him. He took three strides and stood at the frame of the doorway, Georgia still propped on his shoulder, but it was too dark to see where his comrade had gone. The sound of gnashing and groaning couldn't be heard from anywhere inside the facility, so at least he knew the kid hadn't been dragged off by a zombie just yet.

"Ellis!" Nick hissed in a hushed tone. "Ellis! Where the fuck are you?" He didn't receive a reply right away, but no sooner had he shifted his weight onto the other foot when a loud whoop echoed throughout the store.

"Aw, HELL yeah! The Lord is good and let us be glad in Him!"

After the sudden testimony, Nick heard a noise unfamiliar to him that sounded like bed springs being plucked in a rhythmic fashion. Ellis appeared out of the shadows with the source of the noise in question; a shiny black and white bass guitar. The boy was typing his fingers across the metal strings like the legs of a spider, deliberate in their movement, and yet chaotic. He slowly walked back to the doorway where Nick stood silhouetted by the light of their safe room, careful not to mess up his fingering as he went. The mechanic's teeth clamped over his bottom lip as he bobbed his head up and down to the tune he was playing. The chords sounded a bit dead seeing as it wasn't hooked up to an amp or the like, but a melody could be heard if one listened closely enough.

Nick snorted, taken aback by this newfound talent that Ellis seemed to possess. Sure, he remembered the mentioning of a garage band at some point in time, but had forgotten that the kid's instrument of choice was, in fact, a bass guitar. Nick admired how effortlessly those fingers seemed to dance over each wire as if every pluck had been thought out beforehand. The gambler had heard the phrase "tickling the ivories", but bass guitar was a whole new breed for him. He patiently waited for the southerner to finish up his so performance.

With one final strum and a boot stomp to the ground, Ellis let out another whoop and smiled like an idiot. "Man! I haven't done that in a loooong time! This here? This here was my power source back in the day. I'm a lil' rusty now, but when my buddies n' I played… hot_ damn_, we were good!"

Nick humored him, "Yeah, you looked pretty into it there, Bowie."

"Oh, yew don't even _know,_ brother. Our songs were leg-en-dary in our neighborhood. All the kids would come watch us practice, and by then it'd turn into one big concert! Those were the days, man…"

"I bet," the conman chuckled. He wasn't so sure he'd be particularly fond of whatever type of music Ellis and his friends would play, but that wasn't exactly a mystery to either of them.

"The Horse-Powered Hooligans," Ellis fiddled with the tuning knobs at the top of the instrument.

"Was that your band name?" Nick smirked. Nothing less from his favorite hillbilly hick.

"Naw, but I wish it was. We went with 'The Turbo Chargers' instead."

"Pfft. Well, if I were you, I'd change it to 'The Horse-Powered Hooligans'. Don't think you'll get much publicity with your current name."

"Ha ha! I know what ya mean!" Ellis laughed, having thought the same thing ever since the first time he'd been rammed by a Charger. "I think my buddies will agree with me on that one."

The two had a good laugh about it until little Georgia decided to make her presence known by keening and hiccuping in another impending temper tantrum. Nick unglued her from his shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes. "Aw, c'mon, doll, I _just _burped you. You can't still be mad at me."

"Eeeuuugghhh…" Georgia frowned and furrowed her brow at her caretaker, as if in answer to his question.

"Poor thing doesn't like bein' the third wheel, huh?" Ellis hopped onto the glass cashier counter and let his legs swing over to the other side, still holding the guitar firmly in his hands.

Nick let the baby rest against his chest once more and rubbed her back in hopes that she'd calm down. "Third wheel? She's been the bane of our existence since we first got her. If anything, she's worse than the attention whores that used to hassle me for money on the account of my 'unborn child'."

"HAW! Yew didn't actually knock them girls up, did'ja?"

"Hell no! I may not play it safe when it comes to cash, but I ain't taking any chances in bed, and I _know _for a fact that none of those floozies even bought a pregnancy test."

" 'Ho man…" Ellis shook his head, amazed by the radical lifestyle his team mate led back then. Heck, maybe he was still at it right up until the zombie apocalypse, which introduced another curious topic. "Nick, I know yew said yew don't do long term relationships…"

"Uh huh," the conman replied listlessly while swaying his body from side to side, attempting to squelch the last few whimpers out of the infant.

"So then, what about yer ex-wife? No offense er nothing', but I can't imagine yew settlin' down in one place fer too long, ya know? And with the way yew talk about kids… well, it don't seem like yew woulda' had any, but I might be wrong…"

"… We didn't."

"Oh, okay. That's what I figured. Was it 'cuz yew two didn' get along? Man, I remember that one time yew compared her to a Witch and I done near split my side open laughin' so hard!" Ellis slapped his knee thinking about it.

Nick snorted at the memory, but there wasn't an ounce of humor in his features. "Yeah. She was quite a suzy-sob-story before the divorce." The gambler peered in to the glass of the counter absent-mindedly, reading some of the big name composers on whatever sheet music was displayed, none of which he knew.

"That sucks, dude. How long were ya married fer?"

Nick let out an agitated sigh and made eye contact with the boy for a split second before answering. "About a year."

"Heh, yeah that sounds about right. She must'a got on her nerves real fast, huh-"

"YOU KNOW, Ellis, there's this crazy thing called 'mind your own business'? In case the fact that I'm not 'happily married' anymore doesn't give ya a hint, the subject of my ex-wife isn't exactly something I enjoy chatting about."

The mechanic froze at the outburst. While Nick's face didn't show how irritated he was, his tone certainly did. Ellis' hands that were previously clinging to the guitar slowly rose up in defense. "Hey, I'm sorry, man," he said with the utmost sincerity. "I didn't know it was a touchy subject fer ya."

"Right, because divorce is such a casual thing to bring up." He rolled his eyes and turned away.

Ellis cringed. He had obviously hit a nerve somewhere, which wasn't anything new considering Nick was always nagging on him for one thing or another, but this time it got pretty personal. He'd thought they'd become close enough to say just about anything to each other, but there was still a definite line Ellis could not cross just yet, maybe not ever. Whatever the case, he realized that it wasn't exactly his place to talk about whatever happened in his compatriot's past life, so he dropped the issue as quickly as it had surfaced and opted for messing around with the bass guitar a bit more.

The gambler closed his eyes and let out a silent sigh. Fuck, he knew the kid was just trying to make conversation - it's what he did best after all - but Nick had to let him know somehow that he wasn't as easy a book to crack open like the younger man was. Ellis didn't seem to have anything to hide judging from how many embarrassing stories he'd spout off to the group on a whim, most of which contained stunts that assuredly broke the law. The conman had a few good stories of his own, and he was sure the others would've loved to hear all about them had he been willing to share, but Nick never thought he'd be traveling with these goons for as long as he had. And unfortunately, with the team split up and barely scraping by, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

Nick turned to study Ellis' averted gaze, still fiddling with the bass he had resting on his lap. Before some sort of explanation or apology could be issued, Georgia beat him to the punch with the same distressed hiccups and coos she was making earlier.

"Dammit," Nick said and looked helplessly at the baby in his arms. "What the hell do I have to do to get you to sleep already?"

Ellis looked up from his tinkering, eyes thoughtfully switching back and forth between his fellow survivor and the baby before he pursed his lips and gave a quick nod to himself. "I know what'll do the trick."

"I'm desperate, kid. What's it gonna take to knock this brat into la-la land?"

"I'll be right back. Yew keep bouncin' her like that, m'kay?" The boy pivoted his body onto the other side of the counter and jogged off toward the guitar section again, disappearing in the shadows before he even hit the back wall.

Nick trained his eyes back on the baby once he couldn't see his partner's movements anymore, and frowned. "You and I seem to be on some bad terms, princess. What'd I ever do to you, huh?"

"Mnngggg…" Georgia whined.

"Pfft… You are such a mama's girl, you know that?" he smirked.

A few more seconds of staring at each other and Georgia's lips seemed to tremble a little less than before. Nick didn't notice, though. His mind had retreated elsewhere for the moment. It was only when he was alone that the man allowed himself to zone out like he was doing now. It didn't matter if he was surrounded by friends or complete strangers; that iron guard of his never relented. Of course Georgia, being almost as mindless as one of the zombies, didn't count, and it was somewhat of a comfort for the gambler to relax in the presence of another living soul without having to worry.

"Boy, if my wife could see me now…"

The tromping of heavy steel-toed boots approached the counter and Nick's senses fired back up like a freshly lit match. He refocused his eyes on the mechanic coming towards them with yet _another _guitar in hand, only this time it wasn't a bass and had the familiar maple coloring he was used to seeing.

"When I asked you to help me 'knock this brat into la-la land', I didn't mean bash her in the head with a guitar," the conman joked.

Ellis responded with a chuckle. "That ain't exactly what I'm gonna be usin' this fer, Nick." With another hop over the counter, he situated himself as he had done before and held the instrument as if he were about to play.

"Woah woah woah. I don't think your fancy fingering is gonna please _this_ broad."

"Oh naw, I wudn't gonna play what I was doin' earlier." To prove his point, Ellis got himself into position and tested the strings to make sure the pitch was okay. It wasn't long before a melody soon found it's way out of his practice strums and flowed throughout the space of the music store like a lullaby. Nick took a few steps closer so that the baby could hear Ellis over her crying, but neither of them could tell whether it was helping or not. Even so, the mechanic kept playing, his fingers on the right hand taking turns pressing on the wires at the guitar's neck, while the fingers on the left plucked away in steady, well timed strokes.

After hearing the tune once over, Nick perked up a bit and let his mouth hang open in thought. "I know that song…"

"I'm not surprised. Most people do," Ellis smiled as he played.

"Hm. It was one of their better ballads, in my opinion."

"I might agree with ya there."

The sudden blast from his past caused Nick to recall that tune he knew so well, and he started humming along with Ellis' guitar where a new verse would've begun. Sure, the song was an oldie, but so was he, nor was it uncommon for the younger folk to know these songs either seeing as the band was so world renowned.

As he became bolder, Nick sang the words under his breath, knowing each one by heart.

"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.

Now it looks as though they're here to stay.

Oh, I believe in yesterday."

The key that Ellis' played the song in was a bit lower from the original, so it made it easier on the conman to rise and fall with whatever notes would come next. Even with the hat's bill blocking his eyes, a small grin was visible on the younger man's features as he listened to the guitar and Nick's voice in tandem.

"Suddenly,

I'm not half the man I used to be,

There's a shadow hanging over me,

Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

Why she had to go

I don't know she wouldn't say.

I said something wrong,

Now I long for yesterday."

Georgia had long since fallen asleep against her caretaker's clavicle, one hand grasping onto some of the the exposed chest hair and the other trapped between herself and the northerner's chest. Despite their main goal having been achieved for the night, the boys continued their rock ballad until the last satisfying thrum of Ellis' guitar reverberated inside it's hollow wooden body.

The southerner was the first to speak up. "Damn. Feels like forever since I've heard real music like that."

"Yeah," Nick said slowly. "Me too."

"And, man, you should'a told me ya could sing! I'd totally invite ya to be in our band."

"Oh, come on, Ellis. That was barely American Idol material."

"Well, at least yew can hold a pitch, and, believe me brother, it's harder to do than ya think. I can't sing worth a damn." He gestured to the guitar on the counter next to him. "There's a reason they put me on bass, ya know? I like it, though. Rather this than makin' our fans' ears bleed."

"Ha! I actually wouldn't mind hearing that."

"_Yes, _yes you would," the boy laughed with him.

Nick felt the baby stir in his arms. "Oh, shit. Better put her down somewhere before we have to go through an entire Beatles album."

"Aw, I wouldn't mind." Ellis let his feet hit the ground and set the classic guitar next to the bass.

"No offense, but I think I'd rather follow her right into dreamland if that's okay with you." Not like he needed the boy's permission.

"Yeah. Probably only got a few more hours 'til morning anyway. It was fun playin' with ya, though."

"Mm-hm."

With that, they took haven in the safe room, closed the door, and barricaded that too, just for good measure. They found an open cardboard box half full of sheet music that was the perfect size for Georgia's frame and moved it to a part of the room where towering piles of boxes and wobbly shelves didn't pose a threat to the infant.

Ellis let his eyes linger on the baby girl's peach-like cheeks and tiny hands that were laying on either side of her head. It was like one of those things you'd find on a store-bought card, portraying the perfect baby. The image of her deceased mother flashed in his mind for a second before he willed it away with one blink.

"I hope we're doin' a good job," the mechanic said suddenly.

Nick looked at him, bewildered, before replying, "You mean taking care of her?"

"Yeah. Like you said; we ain't her parents er nothin'. How're we supposed to know if we're doin' right by her?"

The conman turned his gaze back towards the sleeping bundle and contemplated a few answers before giving his opinion. He chose the one that made most sense to him, and hopefully it'd have the same effect on Ellis as well.

"Kid, I don't think even the parents know what they're doing at first. It's not like moms and dads are blessed with special parental powers as soon as the baby pops out. Hell, if you asked me, I'd say you're doing better than that sorry excuse for a mother back at the apartments."

Ellis flushed at the praise he was receiving and smiled. "Well… at least Georgia here ain't dead yet, right?"

"Right." Nick smiled back. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder before leaving to find his sleeping spot. "Now, get some shuteye. We gotta try to make up for lost ground tomorrow."

"Okay. Thanks."

Nick responded by squeezing the firm shoulder and went to settle down in his nook near one of the four corners of the room. Ellis moved to switched the lights off and did the same, but on the opposite side of a shelf that separated the two survivors, next to the blocked door leading outside. They had their guns nearby if some zombies managed to worm their way in somehow, and all of their "purchases" from _Shop 'n' Go! _were set neatly in the baby bag by Georgia's cardboard crib. Tomorrow, they would rummage through the new supplies and replace some of their old bandages with clean ones.

There was plenty of paper to help soften the tile floor beneath, and Ellis made do by clumping together a few of the documents for something to rest his head on. The sleep that had been denied of him earlier started to seep back in after a few minutes of staring up at the ceiling and replaying the events of today in his mind. He figured the best part was learning that Nick could sing, and being able to perform "Yesterday" with him. If they weren't so focused on putting the baby to sleep, Ellis would've encouraged his partner to give it his all and really let his voice out. He'd probably have one of those gruff, classic rock styles that got people riled up at all the concerts and playhouses. Fat chance Nick would ever be that willing to let loose, though…

The mechanic didn't remember closing his eyes, but he was out like a light before the clock hit 12:45 A.M. that night.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:**__ Ellis plays his bass… and Nick sings, lol. I personally do not like song!fics, but at least the lyrics weren't weaved throughout my entire story, so I think it's all good. But Nick made Georgia cry. :C What a meanie._

So yeah, hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :) I've been on a writer's block for a while now, so you might not see updates as frequently as you used to, just fyi.

Love you all~!

_**ALSO, I JUST WANNA CLARIFY THIS: **__I don't know why the italicized words in my story are clumping together with the word next to it. It's not like you can't tell what it says otherwise (b/c it's still italicized), but I didn't want you guys to think I was forgetting to put a space there or something. It's either my word document that's doing something wonky, or . Idk! : \_

_Thank you for reading!_


	10. Part 10

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy! _: )

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_**Part 10**_

It was dark. _Really _dark.

Ellis' heart jumped to his throat, the way one would after hearing a sudden noise from behind them. Fortunately, it only took his brain less than .01 seconds to remember where he was again and for a calming sense of relief to prompt his body into the previously relaxed state it'd been in. He let out the breath he'd been holding and rested his hands on his chest.

It reminded him of the time when he wore one of those eye mask things at night, just to see how it'd effect his sleeping pattern. Well, while he'd gotten a fairly decent amount of sleep, waking up in the morning to find that you've gone completely blind wasn't a very fun experience. He'd flipped out, running all over the room and smacking into every piece of furniture to boot, and It wasn't until his mother came rushing into the room and yanked the mask off his face that he realized what'd actually happened. He threw the damn thing away after that.

In accompaniment with the darkness, a stark silence hung in the air, barely disturbed by the low humming drawl of an air conditioning unit outside. It was strange, being in a safe room with only two other survivors. The rumbly snores that Coach would involuntarily make during the deep of night left a void that couldn't be filled by Georgia's quiet, dream-induced coos. As for Nick, the man never moved _once _while sleeping. Ellis discovered this when he decided to take the entire watch one evening when they were holed up near the carnival, and was amazed by how statuesque the conman seemed in his slumbering state. He almost looked like one of the bodies they'd seen piled up near strategically placed barricades throughout the city…

Those particular not-so-survivors were unsettling to the group. After all, zombies didn't have the mental capacity to handle a gun, and the bullet wounds littering those pale, lifeless bodies had struck their target ever so meticulously - not a single bullet hole on the wall behind them.

The possibility of what it all could mean sent a tremor up Ellis' spine, which he quickly squelched by stretching some of the tired muscles in his body. A gradual needle-like sensation started spreading throughout the boy's leg after he'd shifted his positioning on the pile of sheet music. It, too, had fallen asleep along with the mechanic, although it obviously wasn't happy about being roused with the way his skin pricked him in rapid succession. He lifted his leg and began rubbing it to get the blood circulating again, wincing when he hit his foot against one of the cardboard boxes, which sent a jolt to his highly sensitized nerves. After a minute or two, he flexed and un-flexed his toes to make sure all the feeling had come back, setting his leg back down and sighing to himself.

Ellis rested his head against the scattered papers beneath him and saw that a faint glow of morning light was filtering through the cracks in the door leading outside. Judging by the cerulean blue color, it was probably around six or seven A.M., which was usually the time one of them, more often Coach or Nick than the others, would get up and start preparing everybody for the day's journey. Ellis, being pretty young compared to his team, still had the ability to sleep in however long he wanted, which the older survivors had commented on several times, reminiscing back to the years when their bodies allowed them to do the same. However, and he didn't know if this was necessarily a good thing or a bad thing, the twenty-three year old had found himself waking up earlier than he used to (his mama would hardly believe it if he'd told her.) Ellis blamed it on the infected - always shuffling about outside their safe room, groaning like the mechanisms on a dump truck, maybe an occasional witch's howling to add to the diseased atmosphere - frankly, it kept the sandman away more times than he could count, even _with _the sheep.

There was no reason to fall back asleep for a second time that night, so the southerner's eyes settled on one point in the popcorn ceiling above him and allowed the darkness to trick his sight into seeing shapes and faces among the speckled mess. There was a dog, a clown face, a shoe, a horse, another horse, and pretty soon all Ellis could see were a bunch of popcorn horses. He smiled to himself and tried to see if he could pick out what kind of breed they'd be.

"Nngh…"

Ellis broke his gaze with the ceiling and remained still until he heard the same noise again. It seemed Georgia was about ready to wake up. She'd usually make a few little noises whenever morning came, which would often lead to crying for attention or simply lying there with a groggy look on her face. Ellis loved when she made that expression. It was just too damn funny sometimes.

He figured it'd be best to go retrieve the infant now instead of waiting for her to start the waterworks and wake up a grumpy Nick in the process. The man liked his beauty sleep, apparently. Once Ellis sat up, he rolled his neck and shoulders around to crank out a few stiff pops, regretting his choice of bedding for the night. He noticed that his ears felt a bit clogged and popped those as well with a gratifying yawn. Georgia let out another coo, but something was different this time. With Ellis' rekindled hearing, he found that the noise hadn't come from the corner where they'd placed the baby, but from behind the shelf to his left. It had also sounded a bit… deeper now that he thought about it, like a grunt. He remembered that Nick had chosen that area for his sleeping quarters, and the mechanic wondered if maybe Nick was in the middle of a bad dream. He'd never known the man to have nightmares before, but perhaps all this new piled on stress about Georgia and being separated from their teammates was finally starting to eat away at his persona.

Ellis noticed that the shelves between he and Nick had no backing, which meant you had more room to stuff larger documents _and _you could see through it. Luckily, the shelf that was at Ellis' eye level wasn't jammed packed with papers, leaving a little space where one could peak through to see what was on the other side of the room. Curiosity was a, more often than not, troublesome friend of Ellis, and it had gotten the better of him yet again as the boy leaned forward a bit to see what was going on with Nick. He forced his eyes to adjust to the darkness, staying that way for a moment...

… And immediately pulled away into a rigid sitting position, pegging the wall across from him with a dead man's stare that would've stopped a zombie in it's tracks.

'Hole. Lee. Shit.'

Either Ellis was still asleep, or Nick was in the corner playing a little pocket pool.

The boy didn't move or breath for the next few seconds, and the only sound he made was coming from his steadily increasing heartbeat. It wasn't until he finally blinked, and, as if the floodgates had been opened, a visible red flush crept up from the neck and over every contour of his face. The pressure of the blood being directed to his skull caused his eyes to glaze over with water, kind of like the time he'd had his pants pulled down in front of his entire 1st grade class by a couple of bullies on April Fool's Day. The only difference was that he had actually let that water gather up into tears and ran out of the room crying. Current Ellis didn't feel like crying at the moment, but his curiosity had reached a whole new level.

Nick was masturbating. In the same room as him. Seven feet away. What the fuck.

Hey, it wasn't completely incomprehensible, right? The average human male jerked off at least two to five times a week; there was no way even the _apocalypse_ would infringe upon this ongoing, primal regiment as long as they all still had their dicks attached. Ellis was no exception. Whenever the chance arose, and depending on whether their safe house allowed each of them their own privacy, he'd grease the ol' pole until that insufferable thrumming sensation in his body would cease, at least for the time being. They say the more physically active you are (in this case, stress played a heavy role as well), the more susceptible you are to higher levels of sexual tension. No one had argued with that statement so far.

Nick masturbating wasn't as much of a surprise that he was _doing_ it as the fact that Ellis had _seen_ him doing it; that's what turned his ears the color of cherry tomatoes. It'd been a while since the boy had seen someone else getting off in front of him, and it was usually behind a television screen. Yeah, he and Keith had messed around a couple times, but the desire to have a partner with you during such activities had kind of died out after high school. Besides, this was _Nick_ - Mr. Poker Face himself, just casually beating his meat in the wee hours of the morning with only a flimsy wooden shelf separating him from his fellow survivor.

If there was any day Ellis' body could have chosen to wake him up earlier than usual, it just _had_ to be today.

The mechanic's gaze flicked back towards the peep hole in the shelf when he heard another soft drawn out moan from the other side. He gulped once and hesitantly moved to peer through the disorganized documents again, mentally convincing himself that he simply wanted to make sure his eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him and that Nick was, in fact, doing what the boy thought he was doing.

The only difference from the last mental image of a hot 'n' bothered Nick that had been ingrained in Ellis' memory was that now the older man's legs were spread a bit wider and his hand moving a bit faster. Size-wise, he was rather well endowed - around the same as Ellis - although it was hard to tell with his ringed fingers obscuring the view. Wait… he wore his _rings_ while masturbating? Goddamn, this guy…

"Hahh…" Nick let out a shaky sigh and fixed a hard glare at his erection as he stroked, similar to how he double-tapped zombies that had royally pissed him off.

It was almost… hypnotizing, truthfully. And he looked like he was enjoying it. For Ellis, it was more difficult to get it up without some sort of visual stimulation, but Nick seemed to be doing just fine on his own. Maybe it was the age difference, but still…

'Oh shit…'

Ellis stifled a sudden twitch in his trousers by pressed the heel of his hand into his crotch, averting his eyes from the peep show. Was he seriously getting hard watching another guy jerk off? And why was he watching him in the first place? Ironically, the phrase "Is now really the time?" popped up into his head, but it was his own voice doing the chiding.

'Holy hell… I'm such a fuckin' pervert…' he thought, ruefully.

Not but a second later and Ellis could hear a particularly loud groan that held all the signs of a satisfying orgasm. Completely forgetting the mental tongue-lashing he'd just given himself, the boy quickly looked through the shelf and was able to catch a glimpse of Nick's spunk leaving the head of his shaft in small amounts, still vigorously rubbing the thing until the last drop. Some of it had gotten on the floor, but for the most part he caught the substance in the palm of his hand or along his fingers. Ellis figured it didn't really matter if you got something dirty since the place was abandoned and zombie-infested anyway.

A small nagging voice persistently nudged Ellis in the back of his skull, and he forced his eyes away from the gambler's groin out of what little morality he had functioning at the moment. His gaze trailed up Nick's torso, instead, and towards his slightly panting face, a shiny layer of sweat having formed over his brow from the exertion (it probably didn't help that the room was too warm and muggy for either of their tastes.) A few unruly strands of dark hair had fallen in front of the man's eyes, which had nearly become luminescent when a stray sliver of light hit them once he raised his head.

Ellis couldn't stop studying that face - so vehement, even when he wasn't fighting his way through hordes of infected. The Georgian wondered how he pulled it off. How could this man, who was always so pessimistic - the glass-half-empty guy of their team - have an expression like that? To get to know this side of Nick would be…

But Ellis wasn't sure he'd ever get to see the man's underlying colors up close and personal. And, after what the boy just witnessed… he kind of wanted to.

With a grunt that seemed to melt into a tired sigh, Nick scrutinized the cum on his hands and scowled. Ellis was caught off guard when he saw something other than disgust in the man's eyes. It was a rather forlorn look, like when you've deeply regretted something you said or did. Maybe he was just frustrated that all he had to get him off was his hand? Ellis kind of knew how he felt.

The Georgian's first sexual encounter was when his 9th grade girlfriend had propositioned him one night at her home after their high school Homecoming dance. He'd reluctantly gone along with it at first up until they'd reached the couch, and she started to unzip his black formal pants (his father's old trousers, to be exact) with her teeth for a little doming. Ellis had done the "Christianly" thing (or so his mother would have put it) and put the whole thing to a stop as gently as possible. This, of course, sent the girl into a tizzy and resulted in one bloody-nosed breakup. So when he headed off to community college, the boy made sure that any women he dated there were well informed of his newfound belief in abstinence ahead of time. There weren't too many complaints, him being so charming and all.

Before he could blink, Nick's troubled expression was gone faster than it had come, and the older man was propping himself up against the wall using his unsoiled hand. He looked around for something to wipe off the jizz and settled for smearing it on a few pieces of sheet music for the French horn. Nobody really liked that instrument anyway.

Ellis wanted to laugh at his fellow survivor's childish antic, reminded of how a kid would rub it's runny nose on their sleeve, but he was too afraid of being caught in the act of peeping. However, as the fates would have it, his steel-toed shoe brushed against a stack of teetering papers that fell over when he shifted, the crinkling leaflets spreading out on the floor like a fan. Ellis had felt his boot hit something and got out of sight before those documents had hit the ground. He quickly and quietly laid down on his back and closed his eyes as if he were still asleep, praying to God that the conman hadn't somehow seen a glimpse of him through the shelf. He didn't hear any movement from the other side for a few seconds and slit one eye open to see if Nick was going to appear from around the corner. All he could hear was the familiar sound of something being zipped (Nick's pants no doubt) and the faint rustling of clothes.

On the opposite end of the shelf, Nick stood up, brushed the back of his pants of any dust or dirt that had clung to him during his rest, and looked up to see Georgia's cardboard crib across the way. They hadn't been able to wake up in a normal fashion since they'd been toting her along, but tonight the infant was still sleeping, surprisingly, and for this Nick was thankful. It was rare for the conman to even get two hours of sleep on any other day of the zombie apocalypse, but a full six to seven hours was just a miracle in and of itself. He strolled over to where the baby lay and looked down at her peaceful sleeping face.

The kid had grown on him, he'd admit that. The fact that she was still alive, that they were _all_ still alive, almost made the mountains of dirty diapers worth it, but Nick still couldn't imagine doing this whole parenting routine long term like your typical married couple. Hey, at least he now knew he could if such a thing were to ever befall him.

Nick snorted to himself. '_That_ won't be happening anytime soon…'

It was like learning one of those skills you don't really need, but you feel accomplished for having done so anyway. Although, the man still couldn't quite place where underwater basket-weaving fit in the hierarchy of useful worldly proficiencies.

His eyes drifted towards the medical supplies they had stashed in Georgia's baby bag, and he figured now would be a good time to tend to any physical ailments they had before the city started rising along with the sun. Quietly, so as not to disturb the baby, Nick reached into the bag and pulled out a roll of gauze, some q-tips, and a few different boxes of bandages. The mini-mart had been looted clean of all the rubbing alcohol, so they would have to make due with a tube of anti-bacterial ointment they'd managed to find and hope that it kept infection at bay.

Nick was more concerned about the younger survivor's health than his own, on account of the earlier Charger incident, so he stepped around to the other side of the shelf to let Ellis have at the supplies. The boy was still off in dream land, which made the conman feel a little relieved on the inside. He was afraid that he'd been too loud earlier while rubbing one out, but it seemed like his worry was all for naught. In actuality, Nick was kind of jealous that the kid could sleep so deeply, almost as if he were at home in his own bed with the covers snug against his chin, or at least that's how he imagined it. He probably had some lame print on the sheets, too, like a bunch of galloping horses, or maybe Jimmy Gibbs Jr. Although, that sounded a bit more… creepy than funny.

Nick dug himself out of the weird part of his mind and approached the sleeping southerner to kick at the bottom of his chunky work boot. "Hey," he said in a low tone, still mildly hoarse from just waking up. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey, Ellis. Time to get up."

A few more taps of his boot caused the boy to stir at last. Ellis stretched out his arms and mock-yawned, trying his darnedest to put on a convincing, drowsy facade so that his companion wouldn't know he'd been up this whole time. Hopefully, the gambler wouldn't call his bluff. There was really no reason for the older man to be suspicious of him at the moment, so the slightly exaggerated performance was rather unnecessary.

"Let's not make this a habit, okay sport? I don't want to have to be your personal alarm clock every single day. If you're still sawing a log when a Tank rolls through here, I won't be sticking around to brush your teeth for you when everything goes pear-shaped."

Ellis didn't have any earthly idea of what his comrade just said to him, but, instead of asking, he just nodded and arched his back to get a few more cricks out of it. "I got'cha, man. Sorry 'bout that. Guess all the excitement from yesterday did a number on me."

"Well, you're not the only one. Now, here." He tossed the stuff he'd gotten from the baby bag into Ellis' lap. "Change your bandages and I'll get whatever you can't reach afterwards." The boy was about to thank him, but he didn't get a chance to as Nick turned to go make more preparations for their daily journey.

All Ellis could think was that the older man sure was cranky after his special "alone time". With a slightly frustrated curl of his upper lip, he took off his shirt and began the process of re-patching himself up again. His big purple bruises were still plastered to his ribs, looking as vicious as ever, and all the more tender than before. He curiously pawed at the vague outline of an oversized hand mark wrapping around his torso, courtesy of their friendly neighborhood Charger, and hissed when he pressed too hard with his fingers. Hopefully, none of the infected they can in contact with today would canon ball him right in the middle, for _their_ sakes; he probably wouldn't show that zombie any mercy.

Ellis examined the box of q-tips and snorted. Why the heck did Nick give him these? His eyes caught the anti-bacterial cream in his lap and that summed it up for him, but the little white sticks would be useless considering the size and quantity of his wounds. The Georgian opted for lathering his cuts and open sores with the ointment by hand instead, even if it was more or less unsanitary by the conman's standards.

He'd about finished nursing his frontal injuries and anything that had to do with his arms and face when Nick came back around the corner, his hands jerking at the lapels of his suit as if he'd just put his coat on. Regardless of all the muck slopped onto his outfit, the older gentleman was still as dapper as ever. Ellis had to wonder what he looked like on a _good_ day - must've been as crisp and clean-cut as the Lincoln Memorial.

"Alright. I'm all fixed up."

"You sure? What about yer leg - the one that Witch snagged?"

"Meh. It's holdin' up. Didn't get infected, at least. You need help?" he asked after straightening the cuffs of his once white sleeves.

"Err, yeah, actually. Could you wrap this around my head? I can't get the knot tight enough," he replied, holding up a stretch of gauze.

"Sure. What about your back?"

"O-oh, naw, that's fine. It don't hurt much anymore, 'n I was able to get some ointment back there myself," he lied. Ellis stood and hastily put his shirt back on, becoming oddly self-conscious when he remembered how half-naked he was… strange, since yesterday he'd been fine with exposing his upper half to his traveling partner without so much of a second thought. Why did it bother him now?

Nick stared at him for a couple seconds longer before shrugging and mumbling an "okay". He took the offered bandage and motioned for Ellis to turn around so he could see how he was tying it. A few revolutions around his curly noggin and the double knot was secured with gauze to spare. He allowed the flowy cotton strands to fall down the boy's curved back, finally settling on his buttocks. Those baggy coveralls obscured what shape Ellis might've had in that area, but that's where Nick's scarcely used imagination came in handy.

"Uh, let me get something to cut these loose ends with." He chuckled and went to grab his trusty knife from the top of a couple cardboard boxes near his sleeping spot. The man had grown rather attached to it since it had practically saved his life from that tree-Smoker in the park.

Ellis craned his head as best he could to look at the bandages swaying from the back of his head, and he laughed at how ridiculous it looked. "I'm like a freakin' ninja or something, haw haw!" He spun around once to see how they moved in the air current.

"More like a mummy, if you ask me," Nick called out from the other side of the shelf.

"Naw, man. Mummies have _way_ more shit on them than this… Oh! Or, _OR_, I could be, like, a ninja mummy. Ho' boy, that'd be so _sweet!_"

"Whatever floats your boat, kid." He shook his head, a lazy smirk creeping onto his face.

It was nice to see that the younger man had finally shook off the morning's sluggishness and was pretty much back to his ol' chipper self. Honestly, he'd been acting a tad different from the usual since he'd woken him up. It could've been the dusty room they slept in all night, or that his injuries were bothering him more than he let on, but Nick wasn't about to confront him about it. In this grave hour, everyone had their own dilemmas to sort through, whether they let it spill out on the surface or keep it interpersonal, and Nick more often than not was partial to the latter. Despite Ellis' tendency to wear his big southern heart on his sleeve, the boy had no obligation to follow up on his character for each and every problem bouncing around underneath that blood-spattered cap of his. Besides, it wasn't Nick's business.

_Nick's_ business was Nick's business.

Even if he had kinda, sorta, indubitably used the image of his younger companion as fodder for his morning rub… just towards the end, though...

"There," the gambler said after snipping off the extra bits of gauze. "How's that feel?

Ellis patted the knot at the back of his head to see if it felt like it would come undone, but Nick had left a a good amount of bandage for it not to fall apart when fighting. "Feels good to me! Thanks, man."

"Yep." With that, Nick rolled up the two strands of gauze he'd clipped off to save for inevitable future use, and stowed his knife in the holster around his thigh. The man was not one to be wasteful before the apocalypse, and he wasn't going to slack off on that mindset now, zombies or no zombies. "Now, go get the wiggleworm. We gotta get ourselves out of downtown and onto the main highway if we want to have any chance of finding Coach and Ro. Chances are, that's what they'll be doing, too."

"Really?" Ellis' eyebrows climbed an inch on his forehead, more out of curiosity than surprise. "N' why do ya say that?"

"Because, the interstate is higher ground _and_ more out in the open than these fucking dark-as-shit back alleys. There's no way we're going to track them down like we've been doing, so I say we take our little search party on the highway to hell."

"Heh. That's a good song."

"Yeah, not this time around it isn't." Nick adjusted his suit coat once more, a nervous habit of his that usually derived from having doubts or being unsure of himself, and the conman _hated_ it when there wasn't a comfortable level of certainty in the things he said and did. It had the potential to throw him off his game some days, which in turn was bad for "work", an the only work he was saddled with now was to stay alive.

"Awright then. Jus' lemme grab Georgia and we can skeddadle. R'we goin' out the front or back?"

"Mm, front. If we go down this road…" he pointed out and to the right of the music store, "… we'll eventually hit an underpass. From there we can get on the frontage road and follow the signs West for Interstate 12."

"How do ya know they went that way?"

"I don't, but you gotta take some chances in life, kid. Otherwise, you'll never get anywhere on your own."

Ellis nodded. That was fair enough. A pretty corny way of putting it, but fair. He had the urge to tell his fellow survivor that they weren't alone; that they had each other and, with any luck, Coach and Rochelle as well. At the risk of sounding just as corny, though, he swerved the conversation. " 'Kay. You grab our stuff then. I'll carry Georgia today."

In a matter of ten minutes, Georgia had been woken, soothed, and slung onto Ellis' back for safe traveling. She'd cried after she'd been fed and burped, probably upset at the meager hours of sleep she was receiving, and Ellis was too tired himself to try and figure out how to make her stop. That's when Super Nick came along and saved the day by blindly reaching into the baby bag and pulling out one of Georgia's stuffed toys - a yellow-green alligator plush with big button eyes and a few crusty spots here and there from baby drool. The infant was so enraptured by the sight of her doll that Ellis could've sworn she was about to do the whole "ooh" and "ahh" routine. Georgia's tiny fingers dug into the soft fabric and pulled the stuffed animal closer to her chest, giving it a few test squeezes like most babies did with things they got their hands on. The tears in the corner of her eyes practically evaporated now that she had a friend to keep her company in the back seat.

The smile that had been on Ellis' face from the start was nearly splitting his head in two when he felt Nick tuck the alligator into Georgia's sling so it wouldn't fall out during their trek. There was no way they were going to go all "saving-private-ryan" on a doll when being chased by a horde.

"What? I didn't see _you_ doing anything to get her to stop," he said in defense. The mechanic shook his head, tickled by how Nick's Scrooge-like attitude was so closely guarded. (In fact, calling him a "Scrooge" wasn't too far from his character when it came to his love for money and privacy.)

The three survivors finally left the confines of the musky music shop, gladly breathing in the fresh air of an otherwise dying city. They headed north and came upon the underpass Nick had mentioned earlier, and weaved their way to the other side through a five car pile-up that had been in perpetual freeze frame for who knew how long. The u-turn lane merged into an access road that gradually inclined towards the highway where even more grizzly wreckage awaited them, including a few patches of infected. The boys had reloaded their weapons that morning with the new ammo they collected at the city park and had no trouble in beating any oncoming zombie traffic that blocked their path.

Ellis delivered a fatal blow with his baseball bat to the head of a teenage infected who looked like he had been going through a punk-rock stage in his life. "Man, I've moved faster than this during rush hour!" He grunted as he swung at another zombie that had climbed on one of the cars - a beautiful Chevy camaro with your classic racing stripes - in order to get to them. The bat knocked her legs out from underneath her and she fell to the pavement head first, some of the resulting blood spray having caught Ellis' pant leg. He grimaced and stepped over the woman's ashen body.

"We're just gonna have to deal with it. This jam ain't gonna start moving anytime soon." Nick slapped a new clip into his pistol and took aim at a zombie hanging around on the top of an eighteen-wheeler. The bullet zipped straight through it's left eye socket, sending the bastard reeling off the opposite side of the truck and rolling down a grassy embankment. "Heh. Bulls-eye."

"Nice shootin'! You seem more fired up today than usual."

"Yeah. I guess I am feeling pretty good," he replied with a very Nick-like grin. "Guess it's all those extra z's. I can't remember the last time I actually dreamed while sleeping."

"You were dreamin' too?" Ellis blurted out, immediately regretting the question as soon as it'd left his mouth.

"Yeeeah?" Nick quirked one eyebrow. "Why, did you have a dream?"

"Err, well, I guess… it was, uh, nothin', really. I just…" The boy fumbled through his explanation, torn between telling his companion about the odd repetitive dreams he's been having, or casually dismissing the subject. "Nevermind. I don' really remember'em all that much anyway."

It was another few seconds before Ellis looked over and saw Nick, grinning like a damn fool.

"W-what? What'chu smilin' at?"

" 'Ho ho-man, Overalls…" Nick chortled. "That must've been some doozy of a dream you had."

"Huh? What're you talkin' about?"

The conman stepped over a chunk of rubble that a Tank had imbedded into the road before answering. "You know, you're one of the easiest people to read that I have _ever_ met? With the way you've been babbling and making shifty eyes at everything I'd say your dream was a pretty good one."

Ellis flushed. "And just what do ya man by that?"

"Oh, I think you know. And hey, you're still young, so it's understandable and all, even if we are surrounded by the walking dead. A man has his urges." He gave smug shrug, if that was even possible.

"C-cut it out, Nick! I ain't been havin' no dreams like that!"

"Whatever you say. There's no shame in it, kid. Just remember; there aren't any working laundromats in the zombie apocaly-"

"YOU'RE the one who was chokin' the chicken at the crack of dawn!"

They stopped. Nick slowly turned towards Ellis, who had his lips pressed together tight enough to turn them white. The younger man's mind told him, _begged_ him, not to make eye contact, but his body didn't listen as he returned the equally wide-eyed stare his teammate was giving him. He opened his mouth, twitching in and out of a half-smile, but all that came out were a few choked warbles from the back of his throat, completely at a loss on how to remedy his blunder.

"… Forgive me if I'm wrong, Ellis…" Nick's voice was eerily calm, and the boy didn't like it one bit. "I'm not all that familiar with you yokels'… terminology, but if 'choking the chicken' means what I think it means-"

"It's what you think it means," he nodded sheepishly.

"Christ…" It was times like these that Nick wished Ellis wasn't so honest. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, mainly to hide the embarrassment. For fuck's sake, he should've done his business in the other part of the store, but the urge hit him so suddenly that the prospect of standing up to move locations became very low on his list of priorities.

"Sorry, Nick. I woke up kinda early and… well, I heard somethin'…"

"You _really_ don't need to explain yourself, kid." The gambler held up a hand to keep him from describing the incident any further. "Why didn't you say anything if it bothered you? If it were me, I would've banged on the wall and then some."

"Well, I don't think it'd be real nice to interrupt ya like that," he said, earnestly. "I mean, ya looked like you were almost done and I figured, hey, I do the same thing every once in a while n'-"

"Wait, wait, wait… WHAT?"

"… Oh shit."

"You were _looking_?"

"Oh mah gawd…"

"Oh my **GOD**!" Nick's body reeled away, back facing the southerner.

"Oooh myyy gawwdd that wasn't supposed to come out…"

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN IT W-?"

"NO NO NO, I meant, I meant- I didn't mean fer it to come out that way! I-I wasn't peepin' on purpose or nothin' - well, I kinda did on account of I wasn't sure what the noise was at first - but I only saw a little bit, I promise! And it ain't like I never seen a feller masturbate before, so-"

"Y'KNOW WHAT?" Nick stopped him. "I don't wanna hear about it." He made a flippant gesture and continued walking down the road, his pace quickening by a few more steps than before.

"Aww, c'mon, Nick! I'm sorry, okay man?" The mechanic helplessly ran after him, climbing over a couple of cars that had suffered a head-on collision. "I didn't mean to upset ya! I know I shouldn'a looked n' all, but I swear I had no ill intentions, and it ain't gonna happen again, scout's honor!"

"Fuck. You. Ellis." Nick's hostility towards his fellow survivor mainly stemmed from the white hot embarrassment that was sizzling underneath his poker face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so humiliated. Granted, in the time Nick had gotten to know Ellis, the boy definitely wasn't a pervert, or at least he didn't think he was… But just the idea of Ellis, sitting on the other side of that shelf, watching him with those glossy blue eyes of his…

Wait. He was supposed to be _upset_ about this, right? Right.

Ellis felt awful about the whole thing, of course. If his beet red face didn't give it away, then the desperate attempts to make amends with the conman would. "Aw man, Nick… I-If it makes ya feel any better, I've kinda been… ya know… doin' the same thing sometimes…"

"You mean peeping?"

"NO! I mean masturbatin'!" Ellis clamped his mouth shut and glanced around as if they weren't the only two on the highway. He hadn't meant to say it so loud. "Shit, this is all goin' to hell…"

"That's _my_ line, sport, and you telling me about all the adventures you've had with your own one-eyed cyclops isn't helping."

"One-eyed cy…? A-anyway… my point is - I'm sorry, and I'll just keep this stuff to myself from now on, okay?"

Nick finally came to a halt at an overturned Ford truck and sighed. He turned to look at the Georgian, his gaze not as steely as it had been at the beginning of their quarrel. The situation was almost humorous now that he'd calm down to think about it, but laughing didn't seem like the most appropriate thing to do at this point, especially not while Ellis was wearing such a tortured expression.

Nick knew he was giving the younger man a harder time than he should have, but what else could he do? Having the guy whose ass you've been eyeing for a couple months tell you that he saw you jerking off was… really backwards, actually. If anything, Nick would probably be the one bold enough to look in on something like that. It'd be good "porn mag" material for what little content he had at his disposal for those exceptionally lonely nights with his right hand. And, no matter what sex you were, witnessing another person pleasure themselves could really enhance your own experience; Nick wasn't ashamed in admitting that, at least.

"Ellis…" The mechanic's attention was hooked with the soft utterance of his name. "I don't really care that you saw me yanking my crank, alright?"

"Y… you don't?"

"No. In fact, if something like this happens again…"

Ellis waited for the older man to finish his sentence, lips dry and hands unconsciously wringing the barrel of his baseball bat. Nick let his mouth hang open for a few seconds, debating on the best way to word what he was about to say without…

"Nnngghhh…"

The sound of Georgia's distraught cooing brought the duo out of their moment. Ellis immediately responded by twisting his view as best he could to see what she was hiccuping about. All he saw, though, was the top of her thin russet hair.

"What's wrong, girl? You can't be hungry already?"

"Face her towards me," Nick said as he came closer. He examined the frowning infant and realized that there was a serious lack of stuffed alligator in this picture. "Sigh… The toy is missing. Of-fucking-course."

"Oh, s'that all? She must've pulled it outta the sling and dropped it. Where'd it go?"

"Hell if I know, or care for that matter. The brat has plenty of other dolls in the baby bag. We can just give her one of those if we need to."

Well, it couldn't have been too far back," Ellis said while searching the ground around them. When a flash of green didn't show up, he looked behind him and scanned the rest of the road they had already traversed.

"We're not gonna find it in all this shit, Ellis. Just give up-"

"Ah ha! Found it!" The boy pointed to the top of one of the cars he'd climbed over a few yards back. The button-eyed creature was just sitting there, looking straight at them in a comically calm fashion. It was almost like it had been the one to cause all these car wrecks. Ellis chuckled to himself at the thought. "I'll go get it. Won't take but ten seconds."

"El-" Nick was about to protest, but Georgia's pink lower lip popped out from her frown, and a tear or two could be seen glistening in the corner of her eyes. That alligator plush meant the world to her…

'Fuckity fuck fuck…'

"Fine. Just make it quick."

The southerner was nearly there when Nick consented, being careful to avoid any vehicles that had a flashing red light inside their compartments. If any car alarms were triggered while they were up on this interstate… he didn't really want to think of how that'd turn out.

"Now now, Al, you can't go wanderin' off like that on yer own. It's too dangerous out here, and poor lil' Georgia is gonna miss you, ya know?" Ellis smiled at his own dialogue and reached out to grab "Al" the Alligator by his snout. "Besides, yer probably the coolest toy in the whole bunch, if ya ask me, heh heh."

Georgia squirmed in her sling and waved her arms up and down, unwittingly hitting her carrier's back a few times.

"Dont'chu worry, darlin'. We'll have uncle Nick strap him in real good this time, no foolin'." He shoved the plush half way into his coveralls for now and made to head back to where Nick was impatiently awaiting his return. The boy would've already taken off if he hadn't seen something moving in his side view.

His eyes locked onto a large object that had just been hurtled straight up into the air. Upon closer inspection, said object happened to be that yellow camaro he'd spotted earlier on the highway. The automobile came crashing down, the sound of metal and concrete grinding against each other echoing throughout the area like a megaphone. Following soon after was the familiar grunting and huffing of a particularly deadly infected, it's meaty gorilla-like arms pounding into the asphalt with each movement.

'A Tank…!'

And it was headed in their direction.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** Sorry for the delayed update. Last semester of college requires my full and undivided attention sometimes. :T But it's Spring Break for me right now, and I'm hoping to get some much needed writing and drawing done._

_But anyway, hope you all like the smidgen of sexy tiemz in this part. ;) It ain't much, but at least there's something budding between them now. More to come in the future~!_

_Thank you for reading!_


	11. Part 11

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy! _: )

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_**Part 11**_

"Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh _SHIT_!"

Ellis ran as fast as his steel-tipped boots could carry him, buying a few extra seconds by sliding over the hoods of vehicles that he could've easily gone around. The guttural roar of an impending Tank sunk an arrow of panic in the boy's body as he heard the thing getting closer and closer with each car that was being hammered by those horrific bulging arms. It was obviously trying to clear a path for itself, although whether the beast knew Ellis was there or not still wasn't quite certain. Instead of waiting around to found out, the boy sprinted off as gracefully as he could so that Georgia wouldn't suffer whiplash at age one.

Nick was unable to pinpoint where the sudden crashing noise had come from until he saw Ellis bounding towards him in a terrified frenzy. His first thought was that the kid had been carelessly jumping from car to car, causing even more of a racket than his heavy work boots usually made on plain ol' concrete.

"That stupid clodhopper…" Nick growled to himself before raising his voice to address his flailing companion. "Hey, Ellis! Go ahead a ring the goddamn dinner bell, why don'tcha?"

The southerner slid on his hip over one last hood and landed right in front of Nick. He grabbed the gambler's arm and started tugging him further into the maze of standstill traffic. "There's a Tank comin' our way up the road! We gotta go, man!"

"What?" Nick looked back to where Ellis had come from and scanned the horizon for the over-sized meat grinder. The spark of fear that had flared up in his abdomen at the mention of the Special's name was quickly extinguished though when he didn't see head nor tail of said infected. His brow lowered, and he gave a disbelieving snort. "Uhh, I don't see anythi-"

A large red Dodge Caravan arched over the river of automobiles and landed not but two cars away from them, one of the side-view mirrors flying off and whizzing past the conman's head.

With a startled curse, Nick snagged the front of his teammate's shirt and started pulling them down the road at a shoe-scuffing pace. Nick would worry about the state of his leather Berluti's after they were out of the danger zone.

Realizing that running straight down an endless highway wouldn't do them much good in terms of defense, Nick scanned the area for cover, which happened to come in the form of a military transport vehicle originally meant for carrying troops or various cargo. He directed them towards the curtained opening of their safe haven and dove through after shoving the other two survivors inside. It was dark, and Nick was sure his hand had just smushed against the face of a dead body in his grappling for a solid surface, but it was the farthest thing from his mind compared to the hulking pink creature that was currently sniffing them out. On any other day, they would've taken a Tank head on with no reserves whatsoever, but with all these cars around, and with how much that infected liked to throw things, the risk of being mortally wounded, or_ killed_ rather, was too great.

Ellis almost lost his footing due to an unidentifiable lump on the floor of the cargo, managing to grasp Nick's shoulder before going down. He squinted through the black haze, trying to make out the fuzzy shapes of his companion's face which were barely visible by a weak slice of light that wedged it's way though the drapes.

"Nick, why d'ja pull us in _here_? If that Tank finds us, we're not gonna be able to-"

"Shh!" The gambler held up his hand, back towards Ellis and eyes forward where he could just see a bit of the outside through the tarp's slit.

Once they had stopped shuffling around, it was evident that their monstrous pursuer had quieted significantly, emitting those soft grunts and growls it'd make when idly lumbering about. Maybe it had given up on the chase, or perhaps it hadn't seen them at all? Then again, with all its throaty snorting, who's to say the thing wasn't trying to track their scent? For what Tanks lacked in brains and a jaw, it might've made up for in hearing and smell, even if it's head was the size of a coconut.

After a minute or two of waiting, the Tank had finally knuckle-walked it's way over to their section and stopped, beady eyes glaring at the horizon that peeked it's head out from the slight incline of the interstate. An even spread of infected were skulking about the premises, but they were of little interest to the Tank. It's senses were picking up on something else, something that every bone in it's engorged body told it to find and destroy - a raw, animalistic hunger - no questions asked.

Nick silently took a few steps back, corralling his team deeper into cargo's length and keeping Ellis and Georgia snug against the wall. He made brief eye contact with the boy only once and brought a finger to his own lips. Ellis understood well enough and nodded, the muscles in his face knitting together from the stress of potentially being discovered.

Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like an eternity while waiting to see what the Tank would do next. It wasn't unbeknownst to Nick that he'd put them between a rock and a hard place by dragging the group inside this one-way-out compartment, which would essentially become a coffin if that thing ever mustered the curiosity to look through the drapery. The darkness of their enclosed space wouldn't be enough to save them then.

The survivors became as statuesque as the bodies around them, although the matter of their breathing was not something so easily tamed. As nervous as they were, controlling the rhythm of air through their lungs was borderline painful. It was like forcing your body to act as if you hadn't just run five miles in one go. Their throats tightened from the strain, and swallowing didn't make it any better. In fact, the sound of spit being pushed down their esophagus was troublingly loud, although their heightened senses seemed to amplify every little noise anyway. Regardless, both men kept themselves from gulping and simply dealt with the pressure build-up in their sternum.

Ellis' hand still hadn't left the older man's shoulder when he'd tripped, administering a harsh squeeze into the curvature of his teammate's bone. Nick knew it helped the boy mask his trembling; it's what he always did when in a state of genuine panic. Not to say all the other times they'd faced zombies weren't ones that didn't warrant panic, but some situations were just more dire than others, of course. The conman knew how it went…

A gun, a gas tank, even a bottle of pills - Ellis would latch onto that one thing and hold on for dear life. His powerhouse grip usually only made the tremors worse because of how hard he'd be strangling whatever object he got his hands on. You could almost pass it off for exhaustion or lack of sleep, but the boy's eyes gave him away too easily, at least for Nick. He didn't think Ellis even _had_ a poker face - it was physically impossible for him.

The sound of tires skidding against the pavement made them both jump when their pursuer had angrily shoved another car out of it's way. The Special was getting closer, and there wasn't much either of the survivors could do about it, except pray. While Ellis was mentally reciting an age old Catholic appeal to himself, the conman cursed his ever-living luck. Of all his brilliant ideas, he had to reroute their party to the interstate - the wide open, zombie-infested, mother fucking Tank death trap of an interstate. Would this be happening if they'd never gotten separated from the others in the first place? Probably not. All four members of the group would've been able to take down a single Tank easily, no matter what terrain they were on. This just proved how much they - hell, even just Nick - needed the stability of a team through all this shit.

Georgia, confused and somewhat intrigued by the darkness around them, made a few low sounds in the form of random syllables. Her carrier craned his head and reached an arm around to pat her leg through the sling, trying to soothe her with soft hushes. "It's okay, girl. We'll make it outta here." The boy couldn't make any promises, though.

No sooner had Ellis turned back around that he felt something grab his ankle, followed by a weary moan. He couldn't stifle the gasp that fled his throat as he looked down, alerting Nick in the process, to see what had latched onto him. The mangled hand wrapped around Ellis' leg belonged to an equally mangled body that was somehow still moving after whatever it had been through. The fallen soldier lifted his face with the most desperate set of eyes Ellis had seen this side of the apocalypse.

"P-please… hngrr… help me…!"

The fingers around Ellis' ankle tightened and clawed at his pant leg, trying to pull himself closer to the survivor as if the proximity would save his life. A paralyzing chill filled Ellis' chest at the sight, horrified by the raw desperation in the man's voice, similar to what one would hear from a doomed character in a horror movie. The inner samaritan in him wanted to reach out and aid the soldier, to take his hand and get him back on his feet, but his joints felt glued together. Too much was going on around him at once.

They flinched when the Tank let out an inquisitive growl, and the vibrations of it's nubby fists drew closer to their vehicle.

"I can't f-feel… anythi… buhuugh… _please_, help m-me!" His voice grew louder with each word, nearly sobbing now.

"Shit!" Nick hissed. In one swift motion, he flipped his AK around and used the butt of the gun to bludgeon the man in his head, sufficiently stunning him for a good few seconds. It made no difference, though, as the Tank was inevitably on it's way over to see what all the commotion was. There was no time to escape. The Tank would soon be at their doorstep.

All conscious eyes were on the tarps covering their exit, and the light that once filtered through it's opening was replaced by a dark, looming shadow. The Tank stood there for a minute, puffs of hot hair ruffling the drapery each time it snorted, as if purposefully building the gut-wrenching anticipation that plagued it's victim's minds. However, both Nick and Ellis were determined not to make their presence known as long as the Special hadn't seen them yet. Perhaps there was a chance the beast had bad vision as well?

"Ohhhh…" The soldier at their feet moaned, starting to regain his senses.

And the Tank had definitely heard him. The tarps began to part.

"Dammit!" Nick raised his rifle and aimed it squarely at where the infected's head would pop up…

In 3…

2…

1…

"RRAAAAAGHHHH!"

Light flooded the truck's cargo, blinding the survivors who were certain their final moments were at hand. A split second later, however, and both Ellis and Nick were shielding their faces from the intense heat radiating off the Tank, which had somehow been engulfed by a sea of flames currently lapping at it's rapidly deteriorating skin. It roared, grunted, and vocalized it's pain in every way possible before finally moving to the side and leaving an opening for the group to flee. The boys wasted no time in high-tailing it out of the truck and jumping over the interstate's concrete divider to the opposite side of the road. Ellis looked back a few times to make sure the Tank didn't see them, but the creature was in too much agony to notice anything beyond the fire that covered it.

Nick squeezed between two cars and stopped, waiting for his partner to catch up, and quickly scanned the area to see where they should go from here. They needed to be out of sight before the Tank recovered, or _if_ it recovered.

"Fuck that fucking Tank…" he said, out of breath from the initial burst of adrenaline after running.

Ellis narrowly missed bumping into an alarmed car before reaching the gambler. "Which way, man?" He flinched when his own voice wavered a bit, masking it with a cough afterwards.

Nick was about to give the southerner some sort of vague, half-assed answer when he saw movement in the corner of his eye. The waving arms of another man, a living, breathing human being at that, were visible over the shallow drop into the access road. He mouthed for the two of them to come his way and, with barely a hesitation, he turned towards Ellis to inform him of this new development. The mechanic saw him too, it seemed.

"Who's that?" He squinted, trying to see if they actually knew the guy or if it was just some random stranger.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look like he has to deal with any flaming Tanks on his side, so let's go."

"Yeah, alright." Ellis nodded and got no farther than two steps when he heard someone yell…

"NO! PLEASE… C-COME BACK! DON'T… DON'T LEAVE M-…"

The soldier. They had forgotten all about him.

Ellis' conscience propelled him to go back and help the man, however foolish it would be, but Nick's grip was on him before he took another step.

"Ellis, _don't_!"

The younger man gave his comrade a helpless look. He already knew that being a hero in this situation would've been a fruitless effort, but what kind of man would he be if he didn't try? His response was cut off when the soldier's scream cracked throughout the air around them. As the Tank's last dying deed, it barreled into the truck, orange flames still curling around it's form, and took it's rage out on the only poor soul left nearby. The truck rattled and rumbled with the abuse, drowning out most of the soldier's screams of fear, and eventual pain. Fire had spread to the army green tarp and soon swallowed the truck in it's fury, adding to the chaos already taking place. It was purely mortifying.

Ellis was stuck in a state of wanting to look away and just standing there, staring, like a deer in headlights. When the only sounds remaining were the bellows of the Tank and sizzling flames, he tore his eyes away and ran to catch up with his two-person team just as Nick shouted his name.

They hopped over the interstate railing and onto a grassy hill that traveled down to the frontage road. The man they'd seen was kneeling on one leg, a Panama straw hat covering his face momentarily as he cocked his shotgun, the empty shells littering the ground next to him. Neither of the survivors had seen nor heard him pop off a shot, but the four dead and bleeding zombies at the edge of a nearby intersection begged to differ. The stranger lifted his head to meet both their eyes, giving them an up and down once-over before speaking.

"You guys alright?"

Ellis' usual forwardness didn't come so easily this time around, mind still lagging from the whole Tank incident, so Nick was the one to respond, although not in answer to the man's question. "Were you the one who threw that molotov?"

The stranger, who looked to be a few year older than Nick, nodded curtly. "Yeah. I saw y'all runnin' from that thing and figured I'd wait n' see how your little hide n' seek idea would pan out. Looks like I stepped in right on time, too." The man stood, his full height revealing a bit of pudginess around the middle from natural aging. He brushed his knees off and stretched to see if the flames were still going strong, which they definitely were.

"Yeah, well, it's closer than I ever wanna be to a Tank again, that's for goddamn sure…"

"Is that what they're called? Shoot, suits'em pretty well, I'd say." He glanced at the younger man who had yet to say a word. "Did'ja forget somethin' back in the truck, pal? You're lookin' a little put off."

Ellis caught himself zoning out and shook it off before they could blink. "Naw, I'm fine! Uh, thanks for savin' our asses, man," he said with a small smile.

"'Ey, no problem. The rest of these no-brainers ain't gonna watch out for us, after all." He tilted his head with a smirk towards the infected he'd capped sometime earlier.

"Ha ha, yeah," the mechanic laughed. "Name's Ellis. You?"

As soon as the man opened his mouth, Nick cut in, sporting an agitated scowl. "Can we save the pleasantries for later, gentlemen? I'd like to make good use of my second chance at life, if ya don't mind."

While Ellis didn't approve of his companion's rude behavior towards the man who basically saved them, the stranger simply complied with a nod. "Right. Well, let's get goin' then. I got a little place set up where y'all can rest n' for the night if your willing. Food n' medicine are on the house," he teased, and carefully made his way down the hill towards the access road. They followed after him, never allowing more than five feet between each other.

Instead of heading in either direction of the intersection like Nick thought they would, the trio passed it by and went a little further down the frontage road until they came to a smaller, less taken street that had an apartment complex and farmer's market along the way. Any stands that were left upright had nothing to offer the survivors except rotted fruit and vegetables from months ago.

They came to a sharp curve in the road with a barbed wire fence molded around it's perimeter and continued on down to their left. The stranger stepped into the unkempt grass and weeds that thrived in the area and went through an opening in the fence that had obviously been cut by hand. Ellis had noticed the wire cutters sticking out of one of the man's belt loops beforehand.

"There's a brick company a mile or two beyond this here field. That's where we'll be holed up. Just watch for any of them pouncers in the tall grass. They like to surprise ya sometimes."

"Oh, well _that's_ good to know," Nick said in a semi-sarcastic tone. Honestly, if anything tried to fuck with him at this point in time, he'd probably make it wish it hadn't.

Ellis was still in an odd funk from what happened back on the interstate. His mind kept replaying the fallen soldier's screams over and over again, and he cursed at himself for not having been able to do a damn thing about it. To leave this world the way he did… it was downright ugly.

'Shake it off, Ellis. Shake it off. What does Coach always say… 'We ain't got time to be worryin' ourselves over the dead, 'cuz that's what you's gonna be otherwise',' he thought, vehemently. Ellis could quote the old educator on quite a few things, and it often times helped him get through an especially crummy day with the zombies. So, with renewed confidence and a clear head, the boy set his gaze forward and brought his bat to the ready, practically begging for an infected to come at him so he could deliver his southern style beat-down.

Fortunately, the Hunters around here either weren't hungry, or were attending a previous engagement - not a single hooded figure in sight. The walk to the brick company seemed shorter than they thought it'd be, although the dense matte of tall grass had more or less obscured how far away the factory really was.

The boys' savior pointed to a smaller building that was attached to the entirety of the structure. "That's the part I call home, for now at least. Ain't much, but it's got workin' water n' electricity from an old generator I found in the plant."

"Sounds like heaven to me," Nick sighed to himself, hoping that there may be a shower within the facility.

"Yep! Not many of them things were around here to begin with, seeing as it's a good distance from civilization. Cleared most of the stragglers out myself, so we shouldn't have too much to worry 'bout tonight. Oh, name's Marvy, by the way. You can just call me Marv." He sniffed and scratched at the silver hairs dotting his jawline.

"That's a relief. I think this girl's gettin' kinda hungry," Ellis laughed when he heard Georgia's tiny stomach growls from behind him.

Marvy turned around to see what the boy was talking about and stared at Georgia for a few frozen seconds before breaking into a smile. "Well, I'll be darned! I didn't know you had a cub strapped to your back!"

"Yeah, she's been pretty quiet throughout this whole thing. I got a little worried for a bit, but I guess she was just sleepin'." Georgia was wide awake now, though, big hazel eyes darting this way and that with nothing to take in but a big green field.

"Well, hey, like I always say…" Marvy adjusted the straw hat on his head with a solid tug. "…the more the merrier!"

Nick rolled his eyes.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** I've been in more of a drawing mood lately, so my fic updates haven't been as consistent, as I'm sure you can tell. Also, I'm sorry for neglecting Georgia so much! She's gonna be playing a pretty big role in the next few parts, though, so yay~_

_I think it's safe to say that we've more or less gotten to a half way point in my story. I don't plan on doing more than twenty chapters total, but it's the nellis that'll be the deciding factor in the end. If I draw it out anymore than I already have, we may very well go beyond twenty parts. Who knows? I'm just afraid that if I stay on board with this for too long that I'll lose interest, and I definitely don't want that to happen, and neither do you guys, I'm sure! :C_

_Anyway, I'll get to starting the 12th part asap - it's somewhat of a milestone for me. :)_

_Thank you for reading!_


	12. Part 12

_**AN:** Warning - This has Nellis in it, just FYI. Don't like it? Oh well!_

_Title: Mess-Maker_

_Pairing: Nick X Ellis_

_Rating: M (for language,violence, and sexual situations)_

_Genre: Drama/action/humor/romance (pretty much everything you can think of lol)_

_Synopsis: Nick and Ellis get separated from the others when the bridge leading from New Orleans to an evac station is blown up by the military. They struggle to find a way around the miles of wreckage and happen to come across one small problem along their journey, all the while growing closer to each other than they ever did when fighting zombies._

_Enjoy! _: )

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_**Part 12**_

They twisted and curled around each other in no particular fashion, like the path of a worm through loosely packed earth. With their only destination being the mottled gray sky above, it was up, up, and away in a seemingly endless snarl of clingy green tendrils that had so lovingly made the metal structure it's host.

Ellis' eyes followed the vines to the top of the smokestack until the distance made it merely look like big cracks had formed up it's side. There definitely wasn't anymore smoke coming out of the long cylindrical tower, but the smears of rust and emission stains along the lip of it's opening showed that this factory had seen quite a few working years. More creeping foliage embraced the rest of the facility in concentrated clumps, namely the smaller office building the survivors would be making their way into shortly. It provided pretty good cover for someone wanting to hide from the infected around here, if any, with how thick the coat of vines had become. It was rather comforting to know that the boys had this bit of safeguard to camouflage them from the rest of the dying world, if only for a day.

After a two minute trek across the employee parking lot, Marvy led his guests to a side entrance that had a set of concrete stairs climbing up towards the metal door that would act as their primary inlet and outlet.

"Welp! Here we are - home sweet home!" The older man grinned and proceeded to conquer the last five steps to the door before turning and facing his party.

"Gosh, this place sure is huge…" Ellis marveled at the building's length from left to right.

"Wait'll ya see the inside of it! I mean, I know this company used to produce a lot of heavy duty stuff, but shit!"

"Fascinating. Now can we go in? I don't like the look of that sky…" Nick peered up at the dark patches of clouds that loomed overhead, holding promise of a storm coming their way. He glared at them as if the engorged skyline would dump water on him any minute.

"Sure thing, brother." Marv gripped the handle of the door and pulled to let his new companions go in first.

"It's 'Nick'," he said in response to the improper way of being addressed.

"And I'm Ellis." The mechanic chimed in.

Marv smiled and continued to hold the door open for them until they passed through. "Well alrighty then, Nick and Ellis." He gave one last glance around the field before heading in himself and shutting the door behind them.

The inside was surprisingly cool. All three men had felt the draft that flushed it's way out the door before entering, sending a tiny chill up Ellis' spine. It was quite a difference compared to the hot and humid Savannah climate.

As soon as the metal door was shut, there was nothing but the quiet moan of wind through it's seams and the survivors' breathing to match. Nick glanced down both sides of the poorly lit hallway, a couple of dim flood lights placed at each end, barely illuminating where they'd entered. The area was barren otherwise, save for some stray trash and the usual apocalyptic fester of filth and grime that sullied the once shining tile floor.

Judging from the outside of the facility, this corridor would lead to a connecting route from the offices to the main factory. It was probably very wise of the planners to keep these two buildings separate, unless it's business owners wanted to suffer through all the noise that the brick company undoubtedly made during working hours. Even then, one could most likely hear distant whirring of machinery and whatnot, but now it was just… silent; eerily silent.

"Yeah, ya gotta admit…" Marv's voice cut through the extended pause almost violently so, wracking the boys' nerves with a slight jolt. "The decorator didn't do much with the place, but at least we got everything we'll need for you boys back in the break room." The older man began walking down the passageway to their left, his thick-soled hiking boots making dull, echoed clomps with each step.

"Break room? Aw, that sounds mighty nice right about now…" Ellis nearly swooned.

"Ayup! Food, water, workin' microwave… You'll be set for life! Well, at least for as long as the apocalypse allows us."

"And you've been here for how long?" Nick raised an eyebrow, although the skepticism in his face went unnoticed by the scruffy man up front.

"Hmmm, about a month now? That's sounds right… Yeah, a month, give or take."

"Gollee, I don't think I could handle stayin' in a place like this for too long…"

"Tch, that's for damn sure," Nick quipped.

"Eh, it ain't a five star hotel, but it's kept me in the dark from all them hell spawns out there. I figure the government will come lookin' for all us survivors eventually, and we'll finally be brought to a place where we can wait out all this mess."

Nick's eyes flicked up to the back of their savior's head after that last comment, and kept his response quiet. "That's not the only thing you've been kept in the dark about…"

After cutting a few corners, the hallways becoming noticeably narrower as they went, the trio came to a entrance that had had it's door ripped right off the hinges aggressively, by the looks of it. Blocking their path into the room was something large and wooden. Marv stopped in front of it and leaned his upper body into the structure, rapping his knuckles against the structure in a deliberate rhythm. Nick and Ellis exchanged glances for a second, both somewhat surprised that there happened to be someone else here, seeing as Marv had failed to mention it.

"Hope y'all don't mind. I got some friends of mine here with me as well. They're good people. I'm sure y'all will get along just fine."

Ellis nodded, politely. "That's cool, man. We don't mind."

Nick scoffed, more irritated that Marvy hadn't told them about his "friends" than the fact that there were more strangers to deal with. The conman's guard flared up, although he barely felt it prick his senses as the feeling was almost second nature to him.

The wooden blockade moved a few inches enough for the person inside to get a peek out the doorway, probably making sure that it was indeed a familiar face and not some random infected flopping against the structure. With a hardy shove, the wooden object slid to their left, allowing a clear view of the break room...

As well as a very perplexed Coach.

The three teammates stared at each other, wondering whether the darkness of the corridor and the abrupt flood of light from the break room were playing tricks on their eyes. It was a surreal experience, like seeing someone come back from the dead.

"Nick? Ellis? Is that'chu…?"

Holy hell, it even sounded like Coach.

"Coach?" Ellis, who had been rather out of sorts since the whole Tank incident, had reverted back to his old southern self as he lurched forward for a hug from his older companion. "I-I can't believe it! Oh my GAWD!"

Marv's eyes bugged out a bit, but the growing smile on his face betrayed his surprise. "I guess introductions won't be necessary after all, ha ha!"

Nick snorted and couldn't help but let out a small smirk at the little hugfest between his comrades. Inside, the conman was practically tearing his hair out with joy, but hell if he was in the best shape to do it publicly - not that he would anyway.

"Boy, where you been?" Coach joked and returned the embrace, the hardened creases around his eyes relaxing from a wave of genuine relief.

The whole bridge fiasco had left him without much hope of seeing the two boys ever again, and his spirits had been further squashed when he found Rochelle lying face down on the asphalt where one of the blasts had catapulted her.

The sore realization of how easy it had been to separate the group, after wave upon wave of zombies and every level of hell that had been thrown at them, was unsettling to say the least. Debris had burst forth from the explosions like a field of land mines, chunks of road and automobile gushing outward from each fiery geyser that was planted by the jets. The scene was disorienting, and it had probably been the closest any of the four survivors had come to death in a long while. Coach would never forget how scared out of his wits he was during that moment; tears nearly sprung to his eyes just from the panic.

Sheer willpower was the only thing that threw the Phys-Ed teacher into action, grabbing Rochelle before anymore missiles made their way down. The feeling reminded him of the one time he had to force his body to cliff dive with the rest of his siblings on a family trip. Raw courage was what propelled him to finally do it, and a bit of a push from older brother Stewart (who was always trying to toughen up his little bro every chance he got.) But instead of ruminating on what _had _happened, Coach brought his attention back to what mattered now - a family reunion.

Imagine his surprise when he saw an extra member of their crew attached to Ellis' back. "What the…?" He gawked at the bulbous, curly-haired head.

"Man, we've been lookin' all over for you! Was afraid somethin' might've happened to ya when we got separated…" The mechanic pulled back and gave his friend a once over to make sure he was the same ol' Coach they'd last seen a couple of days ago. All limbs and body parts seemed accounted for.

"Uhh, yeah, likewise…" the larger man nodded, silently wondering what he just saw. "Them bombs got us real good on our side. Too much destruction for us to get on over to y'all, 'specially with Ro's leg all busted up…"

"How is she?" It was the first thing Nick had said during the whole conversation.

Coach gave a curt nod and tightened his lips. "She doin' fine, better'n I expected her to, at least. Big ass chunk o' concrete caught her pretty bad in the knee, but nothing's broken."

"Is she in there with ya?" Ellis chimed in, eyes widening in anticipation.

"Yep. Why don't y'all come in so we can talk proper 'bout all this?" Coach stepped aside for his two long lost teammates and Marv to enter the break room.

" 'Ho man, this is too awesome! I can't believe we found you guys!" Ellis continued to ramble as he headed inside, immediately searching for Rochelle's hot pink Depeche Mode shirt. Nick shuffled on in next, after the courteous gesture of Marv's outstretched hand.

Coach's eyes wandered to the boy's back, trying to figure out what he'd seen over Ellis' shoulder, but was halted as Nick laid a strong grip on the big man's shoulder to make sure he had his undivided attention. "Nice to know you haven't lost too much weight since the last time I saw ya," he teased.

"Heh. We been doin' just fine on our own, thank you very much. It did get pretty quiet, though, without yo whiny ass around."

"Duly noted. I'll be sure to get back on that," Nick chuckled and walked the full length into the break room. With the two youngest survivors' excited squeals and chatter as a pleasant backdrop to the gloomy silence from before, Marv went in next, giving Coach a friendly nod before the former linebacker shoved their "barricade", also known as a wooden bookshelf, back into place.

It was a decent space, about the size of your average living room, and included everything one might expect a break room to have - a couple of saggy couches, some reading material, your standard kitchenette with working stove and microwave, even a few paintings hung up on the egg-shell colored walls, all of which were cheap replications of the originals. Nick swore he'd seen the same pictures in some of his grade school classrooms as a kid.

Ellis had successfully found Rochelle, who was sitting down on one of the green, mystery print sofas, with one leg propped up and the other hanging off the side. A fresh bandage hugged her jean-clad knee from mid-thigh to shin, along with a wooden plank to keep the knee joint straight as she recovered. Other than that, she looked to be in pretty good spirits, although it was hard not to be when Ellis was sporting his infamous toothy grin.

I cannot _believe_ we were able to find each other like this!" Rochelle said in a tight voice that was borderlining a joyous scream.

"I said the same thing! It's a miracle is what it is!" Ellis guffawed and knelt down next to Rochelle after he'd wrapped his arms around her in a big bear hug, leaving no room for her to return the gesture with her arms pinned.

"How the heck did you guys meet?" She directed the question to both her boys and Marvy, a bit breathless from how happy she was that her group had been reunited.

Nick was about to tell them of the "adventure" they'd had this past hour, but Ellis' mouth was quick to draw. "Aw man, you are gonna _flip_ your _shit_ when you hear about everything that's happened on our way here. Marv here saved our lives from a Tank, he did! If it weren't for him, me n' Nick would be more pulpy than my mama's homemade orange juice!"

Rochelle laughed at the analogy, eyebrows rising at the mention of the hulking beast. "Jesus! I guess he got there right on time then?"

"Sure did! I don't even wanna think about what would've happened if I'd gotten there a minute later." He shook his head solemnly.

"Me neither," Nick said. "Guy threw a freaking molotov at it. _That _nearly killed us, too."

" 'Ey! You be grateful, Nicolas." The bigger man pointed a firm finger his way. "He could'a just walked away and left ya to save his own skin." Coach's expression softened as he turned to their new friend. "But he ain't that kinda man. S'rare to find good people like you in the apocalypse nowadays, Marv. We've only come by so many."

"Aw, c'mon now. I don't need all this credit. I figure that helpin' a brother out during these dark times is the best thing anyone can do if we're gonna try to fix what we got left."

"Know that's right." Coach agreed, wholeheartedly.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are okay." Rochelle said in a tender voice, rubbing the mechanic's shoulder back and forth as if needing to make sure he was tangible.

Ellis laid his hand on hers and quietly responded with a "same here", just as elated by the fortunate turn of events.

Nick simply crossed his arms, but not in his typical defensive manner. For the first time in weeks, the gambler felt like a piece of humanity, of normality, had returned to his person. Maybe he could let himself believe in miracles... just this one time.

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_To be continued…_

_**AN:** I apologize for the lack of updating. I don't like having this large of a time lapse between my chapters, but the inspiration to write had somewhat left me for quite a while. This week long cruise I went on, however, seems to have brought me out of my rut, and I plan on continuing Mess-Maker at a more normal pace than before. :) I believe I'll be making my chapters a bit shorter though, otherwise I'm afraid I'll fall back into the same lazy writer's block I've been in. Just thought I'd give y'all a heads up._

_Also, sorry if my writing seems a bit weird in this chapter. I haven't looked at this story in 2 months, so I might be a bit off my game lol. But don't worry! More will be explained in the next chapter, so just know that I haven't forgotten about Georgia. XD_

_Thank you for reading!_


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